No Mickey Mouse trip report coming. I shan't disgrace these pages with such nonsense. What I will say is that I was on a noble mission fulfilling the dream of a five year old niece, princesses and all. Some things one has to swallow one's pride for. I do not, for the record, own a minivan.
I actually can't wait to take my kids to Disney. I imagine that it's heaven for them and that seeing them actively using their imaginations and fully buying in to the fantasy of it all would be pretty kick-ass.
There's a strange dichotomy between joy and revulsion. The first morning we were there, I had my niece on my shoulders for the pre-Magic Kingdom opening song and dance featuring Mickey and Minnie. The happiness she and the hundreds of other kids around her were experiencing was intense, and was really cool to be a part of with her. On the other hand, the waste, glut and contrivance of the whole park makes me want to puke. By day three I was starting to get a strange sense of anxiety, and I'm not in any way a very anxious person. Also, it sucks to pay $8.75 for beers.