Summer can still be fun, kids. We'll go to the pool. Visit friends' houses. Go camping. I'll spring for a two-month pass at our local play center if it makes you guys feel better. They're renovating, you know. I'll do my best to make pancakes in a special shape. How about a deformed oval? I bet we can make those turkey legs and I've seen a recipe for the Dole Ice things. I'll even burn a stack of money in the backyard to make it more real for me. Will $3,000 be enough? Good.

Dear Kids: We’re Not Going to Disney World. Period.

I'm sure you're wondering by now if we're going to Disneyland or Disney World, and I have bad news. We're not.

Summer can still be fun, kids. We’ll go to the pool. Visit friends’ houses. Go camping. I’ll spring for a two-month pass at our local play center if it makes you guys feel better. They’re renovating, you know. I’ll do my best to make pancakes in a special shape. How about a deformed oval? I bet we can make those turkey legs and I’ve seen a recipe for the Dole Ice things. I’ll even burn a stack of money in the backyard to make it more real for me. Will $3,000 be enough? Good.

 

Dearly lovely children,

Summer vacation hasn’t quite started in our home, but I’m already seeing photos of Disney vacations pop up on Instagram and Twitter (those are websites adults use to compare lives). I imagine you’re hearing stories from friends at school about Magic Space Mountain Hill or whatever it’s called, pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse’s head, and being served hot cocoa and chocolate chip cookies from Goofy before bed.

I’m sure you’re wondering by now if we’re going to Disneyland or Disney World, and I have bad news. We’re not.

You already know that I love all of you deeply. What you also need to know is that the thought of taking all three of you and the stuff you require to live on a plane to a theme park vacation makes me physically ill. I’m serious. I would rather do a shot of Windex than bunk up with you children, whom I love, in a hotel room. Look at my face. You will find not a trace of jest when I say that I would rather be forced to experience back labor while watching Caillou on a loop than stand in hour-long lines in the sun for 15-minute rides.

Please don’t cry. I’ve given this a lot of thought.

Why would I take any of you to Disneyland when a simple stroll through the cereal aisle is a source of much irritation? I can already hear the “Can I buy that? Can I buy that?” over and over again for items marked up 900 percent and my soul whispers “NO, DISNEY. NO.”

You guys know I’m not against Disney. I shell out $25 a pop for the DVDs and let you watch them ad nauseam. How many times have I played Anna because nobody wanted to be that wench? I even download the songs so you can hear them in the car so don’t you dare say I’m anti-Disney.

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