On Monday we packed up the van again, and headed for Epcot. Thinking that if we left late in the afternoon, it wouldn’t be so hot.
We were erroneous.
Since it was a school day, we deemed the trip educational and decided we’d walk “around the world” of the world showcase, and visit each and every flippin’ country.
With one detour.
Emme and I trotted over to Test Track to net some Fast Passes. Which were all gone by that time of the day. So Emme talked me into riding Mission Space with her. Which only had a 5 minute wait. On the “orange” side.
Let me educate you about Mission Space. This is a ride which opened 6 years ago or so. It simulates what an astronaut might feel whilst blasting off into space. This affect is achieved by the rider being strapped into a claustrophobically tiny space, with a screen placed directly in front of their face. The screen shows what it would look like while being hurtled into the vast unknown. And because of the extreme spinning that the rider endures, the centrifugal force gives the person a very realistic experience.
I rode this ride when it first opened. Discovering quickly that I am both claustrophobic and prone to motion sickness.
I vowed never ever to do that to myself again.
Other park goers evidently felt the same way, and actually died immediately after experiencing Mission Space.
So Disney created a gentler more user friendly form of the ride, know as the “green” team. Which involves the notable absence of spinning. I like the “green” team. And have actually enjoyed it with my entire family. But really, I think that the “green” team label should have been affixed to the vomit comet side of the ride. Which is now known as the “orange team”. But, whatever.
Evidently, time and childbirth must have caused more brain cells to die an early and unnatural death than I had suspected, because I agreed to ride the “orange team” side of the ride with Emme.
A tactical error on my part. I silently made out my will while my life flashed before bloodshot eyes during the blastoff portion of the ride. We had been warned beforehand not to look to the right or the left, and certainly NOT to close our eyes, but rather stay focused on the screen before us. So as to not become disoriented.
This was an impossibility since my eyes had long since rolled to the back of my head.
When the ride mercifully came to an end, I quickly grabbed a complimentary barf bag, which were handily attached to the bar in front of me. I exited the ride and headed straight for the nearest bench, with Emme hot on my heals, “Mommy, are you okay? Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?”
When I felt like I would indeed live, I called Fiddledaddy and he told me that they were in Mexico. Where it was decided that we would eat dinner.
I love eating in Mexico, and surprisingly the faux cheese products actually helped my condition. But it was the bite of Churro that I wrestled away from the children that really put the spring back in my step.
I’m happy to tell you that we made it all the way around the world without incident, and left just as the fireworks were underway. The ride home was fraught with the frettings of bored and tired children.
In a moment of brilliance, Fiddledaddy handed his iPhone to the children, since he had the foresight to download games that would appeal to the offspring.
As opposed to me, who only has Scrabble on my phone. (Insert maniacal laughter.) The children are not fond of Scrabble. I got to hang on to my phone.
Jensen, who was sitting in the back in the dark, was mesmerized with the Water Slide game on his Dad’s iPhone. It simulates your POV (fancy shortened lingo for point of view) as though you are sliding down the slide yourself.
As we pulled into our driveway, Jensen announced that his tummy hurt. Which is not unusual. As a hurting tummy will generally delay the going to bed routine.
We made it just past the threshold of our home, when Jensen began hurling. There was no escape.
It is not a secret that whenever vomit enters the fray*, I’m the first one to exit the building. But I was trapped. And did I mention that Jensen consumed a good deal of groceries on the way home?
I held him on the cheap linoleum to minimize the carnage, and I thought I was doing a pretty good job keeping my act together. Until Jensen looked down at his own vomit and said, “Oooohhh. Gummies!” And I don’t mean like, ooohhh gummies, gross, I mean he was leaning towards them ready to go for it.
That’s when the room started spinning. Fiddledaddy quickly scooped Jensen up and headed toward the bath, leaving me with the clean up.
Another tactical error.
While I was attempting to rid the linoleum of the considerable mess, I began retching. Prompting Cailey to poke her head around the corner asking, “Mommy, why do you keep saying THINK HAPPY THOUGHTS, THINK HAPPY THOUGHTS, over and over?”
Later, after going over the events of the day, we determined that Jensen has inherited my vertigo. Cailey we already know leans toward car sickness, so Emme’s list of candidates to ride the “orange team” is dwindling by the minute.
I look forward with great anticipation to a visit to the Magic Kingdom to celebrate Cailey’s birthday next week. And I know of at least 2 members of my entourage that will take a pass on the Teacup ride.
*The term “whenever vomit enters the fray” is a beloved term that I often use, and was originally coined by BooMama.