We’re Off to See Mickey and Minnie: Part III

It’s not Big Bear’s birthday. Nor is it Little Bear’s. But the Bear’s have pulled the patio furniture into the house, closed up the house and locked up tight, and have headed to Disney World. Without their nanny.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, the threat of a Category 5 hurricane is expected to impact Florida. I was one of those individuals for most of Monday. I spent Labor Day in Wynwood, enjoying a nice pale ale out of a glass that read “Made in Dade,” when I heard that the Governor had declared a State of Emergency for Florida.

For what? I asked. I was met with blank stares. Just the massive hurricane in the Atlantic, of course.

My first thought? What about my new bed?

The one perk I’ve found with being a working adult is that you have your own money and you decide how you’re going to spend it. I decided to spend a nice chunk of my money by taking advantage of Labor Day sales and buying a new, queen bed (plush with an extra pillow topper), like a true adult. Expected delivery, Friday.

I was a little disappointed that the delivery day was so far way. But I assumed it would be fine. I’d just take off a couple hours of work. I didn’t think anything could threaten the delivery.

But the next day, and everyday since, I have been obsessively watching the Weather Channel. Shout out to the hurricane experts.

Yesterday afternoon, Mama Bear sent a family group chat saying that she had reserved four hotel rooms at Disney World, and that myself and Aunt Dara were invited.

I weighted my options. The boys have never been to Disney World without me. They are my family, but my other family is here, and I needed to be with them. I needed to take care of myself first.

So today I pulled into the driveway and saw all three BMW’s parked in the driveway. I knew at that moment that Big Bear was home from school. Usually one of the X5’s is gone when I show up, in transit to take BB to school.

I walked in the front door and was greeted by two friendly, tiny faces. Big Bear started jumping up and down, talking about how excited he was to see Mickey Mouse. Little Bear said “Hi, Rachel,”  and “toast” and “where’s Mama?”

While I took LB to a Mommy and Me class (BB refused to go with us) Mama Bear and the rest of the Bear House packed up for the drive to Disney World.

When LB and I got back, BB begged me to play board games then abandoned the games when we were halfway through. Cuddled up in my lap, watching Ponyo, watching LB destroy the playroom, BB asked me if I was going to Disney with them. I told him I wasn’t. He said that was weird. We were silent. We were both sad.

I had BB promise to not poop in the bathtub (like he did on his third birthday) and for him to give Mickey a big hug for me. He told me he was going to introduce himself as Super Mickey.

Before I knew it, the cars were packed and the Bear’s were ready to go. I changed LB’s diaper and made him a fresh milk. BB used the bathroom and grabbed a bag of pretzel’s for the road. I kissed them both on the head, more than once, and told them I’d see them soon. And just like that, they were gone.

I stayed a few extra minutes, to help with last minute prepping, and locked the house behind me. I hoped to see it again in a few days, the trees and roof looking exactly the same.

After a six hour drive, they made it to Orlando. I’m sure they took advantage of the large lobby and ran up and down the marble floors. I’m hoping Mama had two tired boys.

They have the hotel rooms until Tuesday, but there is no set return date. I should be happy that I only worked 1 1/2 days this week. But I can’t help but worry about the weather, my apartment, friends and family, my bed delivery and Disney World.

Keep your thoughts with Florida, my bed delivery. And don’t forget Mickey Mouse’s house!

 

2 Comments

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  1. Nice entry Rachel. Let’s hope for a favorable move to the east for Irma.
    I don’t want to live in the fruiser.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Very nice, but it it was me I would be hanging with Mickey. But we will ride it out at Nonnas.

    Like

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