This book is a riot (“Jamie Lark is a force to be reckoned with. My partner thinks they’re funnier than me,” is how famous comedian Sam Baker described it on the cover), cheeky, and a delightfully entertaining read. Below, Jamie and their whimsical spouse, Max, plan a family trip to Disney World—spoiler alert: Jamie isn’t exactly thrilled about it.
The Grand Ideas of Max
Like many of us who’ve experienced the ups and downs of parenting, Max has grand ideas about doing things differently. Celebrations and traditions weren’t a major part of Max’s childhood, so now they are the cornerstones of their adult life. Taco Tuesdays! Family Hikes! Let’s Make a Dessert Deal! Our life together feels like a series of extravagant parties, complete with omelet bars and nacho stations. And good luck trying to stand in Max’s way; you’d be a party pooper if you did.
Max suffers from a severe case of emotional pica, an unquenchable thirst to savor the sand and grit of a childhood they felt deprived of. It can be exhausting, but on my more empathetic days, I get it. I roll my eyes while kneading dough or ordering a piñata, knowing all too well how it feels to feel slightly off-kilter. So when Max excitedly declared, “Jamie, we’re going to Disney World!” I wanted to graciously decline and insist that there was no way I was embarking on that journey. Instead, I plastered on a smile, nodded, and retreated to the bedroom, thinking: good grief.
The Two Faces of Disney
Say the word “Disney” in public, and you’ll see two entirely different reactions. One person will light up, their eyes turning into little Mickey Mouse silhouettes, complete with hearts and fireworks bursting from their heads. The other will launch into a tirade, asserting that their child most certainly doesn’t need a prince for a happily ever after, thank you very much. If you mention Disney World specifically, prepare for either a meltdown or a nostalgic recounting of someone’s near mishap on a ride or how they once lost their lunch on Dumbo.
It seems everyone has a Disney story to tell, including Max. I learned that Max’s blended family took a road trip in a vintage Chevy wagon. With not enough seats, Max was crammed alongside their step-sibling and luggage in the trunk. Their most vivid memory? Pleading with their stepdad to visit the Wet ‘N Wild Water Park, just a mile before Disney’s entrance. That request was flatly denied. The only other thing Max remembered was their stepdad muttering on the way home, “Well, we’re never doing that again.”
My Own Disney Memories
As for me, my own Disney memories are a bit foggy, especially in Tomorrowland, where no one in my family could handle anything faster than the Hall of Presidents. I begged my family to ride Space Mountain with my nine-year-old self, but was met with a chorus of “absolutely not.” My dad clutched his fancy belt, saying he’d probably be sick, while my brother claimed the ride was too fast and scary. My mom, sensing my indecision, urged me to make a decision quickly because she thought she heard thunder and was feeling unwell. A chalk line was drawn in that moment, separating me from them. They turned into a band of not-so-heroic superheroes—The Non-Avengers. Together, they fought nothing, actively choosing not to save the world because they were worried and queasy. I looked at their side of the line and thought: Fine, I’ll ride alone. Maybe someone will rescue me. Maybe I’ll fall out and then they’d realize what they were missing. And that’s exactly what I did (rode alone, not lost or deceased). I recall nothing else.
A Trip to Disney World
A trip to Disney World, much like parenting, is a massive do-over. Some return to the park with their own kids to relive the magic, while others go back to mend the gaps left in their childhood. Max and I approach our childhood repairs differently. Max plans fiestas and Best-Day-Evers, while I ensure no one rides solo. Yet despite all the things I hoped to fix, I still had zero desire to go. So, I pulled my classic move and tried to wriggle out of it.
“You know, I was thinking. Disney can be a bit pricey,” I suggested one evening while I loaded the dishwasher. This usually gives Max pause.
“Well, you only live once,” Max replied. “They’ll remember this forever.”
“Isn’t it hurricane season?”
“There won’t be a hurricane,” Max reassured me, deep into planning the ultimate memory-making pool experience in Orlando. “Do you care if we don’t stay on campus?”
Campus? They were already using the lingo. I was in trouble.
Crafting Memories
In the end, whether we go or not, it’s all about crafting memories—just like our blog on the journey of home insemination, which you can read about here. For more expert tips on this topic, check out this link. Additionally, this resource offers great information for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
In this humorous account, Jamie navigates the announcement of a family trip to Disney World by their enthusiastic partner, Max. Despite Max’s attempts to create joyful memories and relive childhood experiences, Jamie grapples with their ambivalence towards the trip. With amusing anecdotes about past experiences at Disney, the story explores themes of nostalgia, family dynamics, and the quest for making new memories.