The morning finally came and I didn’t even have to open my eyes to feel the migraine coming. Seven hours of customer service ahead of me and I could hardly open my eyes, let alone offer quick service with a friendly attitude. I trudged through my work day and only thought about my lunch coming back up three times. The second I got home it was time to head out on a thirteen hour drive to Anaheim, California. My sister, her fiancé, and I pulled into the Walmart parking lot at 3:30 am for a four-hour power nap complete with seatbelt buckles in unmentionable places. Changing in the car and brushing teeth in the store bathroom made preparation for the day complete. As we drew closer to the land of Matterhorns and mouse ears, I wondered why it’s known as the happiest place on earth. California traffic leads to a line waiting to get in to the parking lot where you wait in a line for a bus to take you to the park where you wait in a line to wait in line to get your tickets to wait in lines to ride rides. One hundred dollars per ticket, multiplied by the huge group you bring with you. Five hundred thousand people squirming through worm holes between each new crowd to get to the next attraction. Kids crying in a temporary time-out corner because they look like Cinderella and not Belle. Couple after couple sport their cheesy “He/She’s My Prince Charming/Disney Princess” shirts, and I can’t even take a picture with Mickey or Minnie until the crowd thins, roughly next February. It’s hot and my feet hurt and I can’t afford a nine dollar bottle of water.
Suddenly I look down at the almost three-year old hand holding mine. My nephew doesn’t know how many hours I’ll have to work to pay for this trip. He hasn’t noticed crying kids or ninety minute lines. All he knows is that he rode in Peter Pan’s flying ship, saw elephants from a boat in the jungle, and it really is a small world after all. Lightening McQueen was larger than life, Elsa and Ana waved at him from their balcony, and my nephew had the most magical look on his face through it all. Wait. Did I just hear bells? And is that glitter in my hair? My viewpoint lightens somehow. I see happy families excited to be together, couples in love, and Mickey surrounded by adoring fans. Faith, trust, and pixie dust, paired with a child’s perspective changed my tune a bit. Because of a three year old's reaction, Disneyland is quite possibly the happiest place on earth.
