Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Space Mountain: A Lesson in Honesty and Meant to Be

When you plan a trip to Universal Studios and Disney World, we all imagine ourselves skipping side by side with our kids, laughing and smiling on the perfect vacation.  We see ourselves taking pictures with the princesses, squealing with joy down Splash Mountain, and eating Mickey-shaped ice cream, pretzels, and candies.  Then reality hits...long lines, whining, and feeling generally like you've entered the Twilight Zone.  On our trip this past month, the wait time for Space Mountain was 300 minutes.  Yes, you read that right, 300!  Even Small World was 150 minutes!  Isn't this supposed to be the happiest place on earth?!  Well, don't give up the ship yet...it turned out to be a lesson in "meant to be".

We arrived at 8am as soon as the park opened and ran straight to Space Mountain, our son's favorite ride.  Our plan was to ride it a few times then grab a fast pass to return later in the day.  Plans don't always work out -- it was apparently broken.  So, fast pass it was.  At that early hour, the lines weren't so bad.  We enjoyed Haunted Mansion and a few other rides as we made our way to Frontier Land.   We convinced ourselves that the 30 minute wait for Thunder Mountain Railroad would be worth it.  But as our 30 minutes turned into 90 minutes without any true cause, we started wondering what we got ourselves into that day.  Our fast pass to Space Mountain expired as we exited Thunder Mountain (note: fast passes are now only good for the hour listed).  Our son had tears in his eyes.

We decided to ask a Disney employee for assistance.  She listened carefully to our woe and returned a few moments later with new fast passes that could be used for one ride at any time throughout that day.  YES!  We were golden!  Disney really does try their best to make you happy.  Although the lines grew and grew throughout the day, we balanced waiting with snacks and other distractions, knowing that Space Mountain was in our future without the 300 minute wait.

When we boarded the Space Mountain car later that afternoon, our son was in his glory.  He got the last seat and couldn't wait to be tossed around in the dark. As I boarded, I realized the fast passes were still in my hand -- the attendant somehow never took them!  Could this really be happening?  As any parent who has been to Disney during peak times knows, fast passes are worth their weight in gold.  And the fact that ours did not have a time limit as would have been the case with the first passes we got was incredible.  We could go right back on, walking by lines and lines of people glaring at us with envy.

Our son, however, was not so convinced -- he reminded us that they should only be for a one-time use.  How could I fault his honesty?  Isn't this what we teach our children?  As I put them back in my purse and we waited in longer and longer lines, the fast passes began to burn a hole -- so close but so far.  I started to feel like Clark Griswold from "Vacation" -- Disney owes us!  How can they possibly expect us to wait in these ridiculous lines after we've come so far and paid so much?  We watch their movies and buy their stuff!  Why did we teach our son to be honest?

The Libra in me took over (my husband always said I'd make a great lawyer) as I felt more heat from those darn passes in my bag.  "You know, sometimes things are meant to be," I said, trying to convince him.  "We didn't steal them nor try to hide them.  Maybe Disney wants us to get a bonus ride?"  Our son shook his head, looking more and more like Charlie from the Chocolate Factory, returning the everlasting gobstopper. The afternoon turned into evening and longer  lines became our regular routine.  Tomorrow we would be returning to Boston, back to the cold, school, and work.  Sadness settled in.

As we began to exit the park, Harrison stopped and looked at us.  "Do you really think it could be meant to be for us to go back on Space Mountain?"  The Griswold in me smiled a Grinch-like grin.  As he sat in the front car this time, screaming at the top of his lungs with glee, I knew this was truly a bonus gift.  This was the vacation in my dreams, if only for a moment.  What happens in Disney stays in Disney, right?  Is it better to be honest or look at it as meant to be?  Or to quote Dr. Suess from Cat in the Hat, "Well, what would you do if your mother asked you?"