We left Anaheim late in the afternoon, skipping Erin’s normal nap because she was having fun with grandma and her cousins and because we’re not stupid: Why waste naptime in the hotel when we could enjoy a blissful drive through L.A. that didn’t involve repeated demands for Finding Nemo?
Erin did sleep through most of the stupid Orange Crush traffic (on a Sunday? People are crazy. Where are you going? Stop going to my house.), but she woke up twice, dreamily:
“Big hug Mickey Mouse? Fun Disneyland? Hug?” Oh, dear child, I didn’t think you could be any more adorable.
“I love Elmo? I love Nemo? I love Marlin? I love Mickey Mouse? I love Daddy? I love Mommy?” I’m glad that we made the list, kid.
I wish I had dreams like hers. Although she was so sad when she woke up, knowing that Disneyland was retreating into the past, that grandma and Mickey hugs were done with, for now, that if I had been driving I might have turned the car around.
But I wasn’t driving. I made my pregnant wife drive through L.A. traffic. In fact, I made her drive the entire way home. Because I’m a feminist.
Erin eventually woke up for good just in time for a Denny’s dinner, during which she revealed even more hidden adorableness. When my sliders arrived, with their cellophane toothpicks embedded through the buns, Erin took one look at the plate and shouted “HAPPY CAKE TO YOU!!!!!”
She likes to think about birthdays.
She was so convinced that I was eating cake that Emily had to give her a piece of one of the buns just to calm her down.
“Here. Have some cake.”
She tasted it, then gave Emily one of her “what the hell, mom?” looks: “Bread?” I could hear her calling us both bastards under her breath.
After dinner Erin settled in with her borrowed portable DVD player and some Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and just zoned for the rest of the way home.
Look, I know. Toddler! Zoning! Evil! It’s not like I made her eat a bunny.
Driving through Pacheco Pass we put on some Pink Floyd, because “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” is the best night driving music ever written.
We arrived home just before 1am. Erin was passed out, victim of Dad’s playlist and the pulse of the tar road seams thunking gently under our tires. We got into bed and dreamt Orange County dreams.
11 comments:
One of these days my headless crew will have to join you and the girls at the Big D. My boys are seriously jonesing for a baby sister.
Not in this lifetime, but they can dream, right?
I've only been to Disneyland once. I've only eaten at a Denny's once. More than once? The dreamy, diamond-eyed kids. Sometimes that's the best part of the entire time.
hahahaa..... what the hell... bread??
Sweet post. Brand new here.
Came to see your blog because I caught your astute comment about the Her Bad Mother brew ha ha. I was bored on a Friday and checked her blog (I'm not an everyday reader), and got sucked into the drama. Over an hour wasted. But I liked what you said and very much agreed. So ... cudos to you. :-)
Sleepy toddler ramblings are the best. She'll be dreaming about those happy memories for a long, long time. "Happy Cake to You!" - smart cookie, that Erin. :)
I loves me the Floyd, but three words:
Gimme Shelter. Stones.
That is all.
I routinely call people bastards when they switch my cake with bread. She obviously has good taste.
Regardless of our friendship, I refuse to click that youtube link.
The first time I hear that song will not be a lame video from the archives of the net.
I'm holding firm in my refusal to listen to this song.
If you had even suggested that I drive through LA traffic while pregnant, I would have killed you and stuffed you in my trunk. And then driven through the LA traffic. Take note.
Nice post. Though I could have sworn that my DH wrote these lines (esp. the last sentence):
"But I wasn’t driving. I made my pregnant wife drive through L.A. traffic. In fact, I made her drive the entire way home. Because I’m a feminist."
:)
With all the mom blogs out there (and I appreciate/read several), it's nice to stumble upon an introspective dad blog.
I was Snow White at Disneyland for a short stint. Cute little kiddos like yours made it totally bearable
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