Last Fourth of July, my poor husband was bed-ridden, a rare occurrence. He couldn’t even drive to the fireworks stand let alone make it to our beach cabin to host our annual BBQ for family and friends, followed by a pyromaniac’s dream come true.
What bothered my husband the most was that our four-year-old grandson was disappointed. The little guy had been looking forward to our over-the-top display.
Several days after the fourth, my husband was still bemoaning our grandson’s disappointment. He said, “I wish we could take the kids to Disneyland,” meaning our two grandchildren and our older son and daughter-in-law. My husband and I had another trip planned, but after calling our son and his wife to get the green light, he swapped plane tickets and made hotel reservations for Disneyland in southern California.
After what must have seemed like an eternity for our grandkids, our jet finally touched down on the LAX tarmac. The next day, we literally had a scream on Splash Mountain. I went along on the hair-raising ride to be a good sport, but I don’t recommend it unless you enjoy a fifty-foot drop and getting wet. They don’t call it Splash Mountain for nothing. Fortunately the 90 degree weather dried my curly hair in moments. A pokey ride like It’s A Small World is more my speed.
Later that afternoon, surrounded by the stroller-pushing throng, I was struck with the notion that I’d had enough blaring noise and glitz. I found myself looking for something Plain or just one horse-and-buggy. How dumb is that?
Have your best laid plans ever taken a radical U-turn? Has a vacation done a belly flop or turned out to be better than expected? Do you prefer peaceful promenades over roller coasters? If you could wish upon a star, where would you land?
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