Friday, January 25, 2008

30 is the New 50

My sister and her husband are planning to take a long deserved trip away from their house of children, dishes, laundry, and brightly colored plastic objects. Being young parents of three children under the age of five, they've kind of lost touch of culture and happenings around them. Unless it's printed on a Perkins menu, they don't really know about it.

My sister wondered out loud..."Where should we go?"

The possibilities! Visions filled my head of strolling down Paris's cobblestone streets, or walking the white sand beaches of Greece, or sipping wine in the Sonoma Valley. Better yet- a wild long weekend trip in New York City, reclaiming a youth lost in the Diaper Genie. How wonderful it will be for them to sneak away and recall the two crazy college students that fell for each other over $1.00 captain cokes and shots of kamikaze in the middle of Iowa.

Then she told me she wanted to go to Disney World. So they could see it before they brought the kids. Disbelief, horror and a little despair flooded my face.

They've spent 1,825 days surrounded by loud noises, scary sounding music, even scarier looking toys and virtually no adult interaction. They are in turn going to take the .3% of days allotted to them to splurge on whatever experiences and sensory diversion they wish to divulge...on a vacation filled with loud noises, scary sounding music, and even scarier looking toys that have been transformed into HUMAN FORM.

I don't get it. I just don't get it.

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