POV

We survived California! Here’s a quick run-down: You have to pay the airline extra for a suitcase that weighs over fifty pounds (see “Packing Insanity” post.) Sea World is incredible for us mountain-bound folks, but skip the San Diego Zoo unless you love to watch animals sleep. Legoland can impress the teeth right out of a kid. I like fish tacos, but no one else in my family does. Harbor seals are good for your self-image. Monkey does not like Valley Girls and doesn’t mind telling them so, politely. Don’t climb Tarzan’s tree house at Disneyland after walking through five amusement parks in five days. Do not assume that twenty minutes is enough time to buy ice cream before the Pixar parade (thankfully the boys didn’t miss it, just Rachel and I.) Bubba Gump restaurant is the best place to eat near Disneyland. DO NOT, under any circumstances and for any reason, eat at Captain Kidd’s. Little boys think turbulence is fun.

We had a blast and came back exhausted, infected, missing teeth, and in Chunky’s case, four years old. He had a birthday party at Disneyland and even got to meet the Mickey and Minnie characters. Chunky’s new stuffed Mickey Mouse is his prize possession now. Unfortunately, Mickey has eaten every meal with us since he joined our family. This morning Mickey had Honey Nut Chex—decidedly less messy than tacos.

You may be wondering about the title of this post. In writing circles, we talk a lot about POV or Point Of View, meaning whose head the author’s in when he or she is telling the story. I’m pretty sure the folks at Disneyland study POV as well, but for them it means Point Of Vomit. Just how long can someone spin in a tea cup before they hurl? How many times can a person be turned upside down on a roller coaster before they lose the absurdly-expensive, hockey-puck burger they ate for lunch? How many shakes of the Star Wars simulator does it take to induce nausea? What exactly is the Point Of Vomit? I’m sure it’s someone’s job to find out. I’m just glad it’s not mine.