The three little ones were so excited to get to Disneyland, because it had been a while since we were there last. Jack had not been there since February, when Jeff and Lydia and Tommy and Anna spent the last week with us there. They were very excited.And then Pop Pop began making suggestions without thinking about their reactions. It was not until late in the day I realized that my fun rides may or may not be fun for them. On the first day, it was over 90 degrees, so I had to do Grizzly River Run. Even more exciting for me was being able to go on the ride for the first time with Jack and Tommy together. The boys were uneasy, and after I heard this strange sound, I looked around for a moment. It was Lydia! It wasn't a squeal, a laugh, and she didn't curse. It was this guttural high pitched sound you would make if chased in a boat by a giant squid or something. But then I recognized it--the sound Lydia made when I wiped a swipe of Guacamole on her cheek with my index finger. She likes it now, but then it was the color that was offensive.
Later in the day, I found different rides I was careful of with each of the grand kids. With Jack, it was any verbal mention of a fast roller coaster ride. His eyes would fill will abject horror, and his skin would turn clammy. But Tommy loves anything that twists and turns at high speeds.
For Tommy, it was the notion of being at the front of ride on Splash Mountain. It scared him, because he was afraid he would fall, even if you held him close to you.
And for Tommy and Anna, anything 3D would not work, because I made the mistake of taking the three of them on "Honey, I Shrunk the Audience." Jack loves 3D movies, so I thought I would try it. I forgot the snakes, the mice, the dog. When the snake struck at the audience and then wiggled his tongue at the lenses of those weird glasses everyone wears, Tommy and Anna jumped Olympic style. Anna pressed her face into one arm pit and Tommy occupied the other. Meanwhile, Lydia had to take Jack to the bathroom just before we entered the theater, so we didn't get the chance to see it together. The mice scurry off the screen and toward the audience, and these little bits of plastic flip at your legs. Tommy's legs immediately went against his chest, and the glasses went down. Of course the theater was dark, so he put them back on just in time for the cat and the dog. When Anna saw the gigantic version of a tan Toto put its sniffing nose toward her, that was the end of Western Civilization as we and everyone in the theater knew it. I held her the rest of the time, and I exited the theater feeling guilty for taking the traumatized little ones with me: Anna in my arms and Tommy gripped firmly in hand. But it didn't stop us from finding other alternatives that everyone could enjoy.
