It didn’t really hit me until our last day at the Magic Kingdom. My two-year-old daughter was scaling the 116 steps of the Swiss Family Treehouse for the
second time. I watched her legs—once the doughy consistency of a Mickey Mouse waffle, now corded like the ropes of the treetop walkway.
My daughter is strong, I thought.
I would’ve realized this sooner, but visiting four Walt Disney World Resort parks in three days—plus hopping on shuttles, speed-walking to dinner reservations, and enjoying so much pool time—hadn’t given me much space to think.
After that second tree-house run, despite my daughter’s squeals of “Do again!” we met up with my wife and five-year-old son, fresh off Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. I saw it in them, too. We were hot and sweaty and overstimulated, yes, but ready for more.
It didn’t really hit me until our last day at the Magic Kingdom. My two-year-old daughter was scaling the 116 steps of the Swiss Family Treehouse for the second time. I watched her legs—once the doughy consistency of a Mickey Mouse waffle, now corded like the ropes of the treetop walkway. My daughter is strong, I thought.
I would’ve realized this sooner, but visiting four Walt Disney World Resort parks in three days—plus hopping on shuttles, speed-walking to dinner reservations, and enjoying so much pool time—hadn’t given me much space to think.
After that second tree-house run, despite my daughter’s squeals of “Do again!” we met up with my wife and five-year-old son, fresh off Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. I saw it in them, too. We were hot and sweaty and overstimulated, yes, but ready for more. |
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