The Right to Bear Spoons

My mom and I fought the crowds at Disneyland yesterday. I thought it would be a ghost town, but the college students are still as free as a bird, and I guess they all decided to go to Disneyland on the same day. It was a long, but good day, because while we did have a good time, the crowds limited the rides we wanted to ride, and Nathan wasn't feeling like himself, and I tried using an umbrella stroller for three children.

Now the funny thing that I have to tell you all about is our very first hour at the park. With Nathan's Christmas money we bought a foam sword from the Lego Store. My mom bought another one for the family to use so the kids or the guys could joust one another. We bought the two swords and then walked across the pathway to the Monorail gate. The lines to get through baggage check are usually one or two people long, and you get to ride a fun Monorail into the park itself. However, it's the lottery system whether or not there are lots of other people waiting to fight you for a seat into in the park or if a train just left a second before you arrived. We tried our luck.

The Monorail Gate will forever be called The Rejects Gate to me and my family, because I think the company pushes all the grumpy people at this gate to get them away from the crowds. Let me preface this with the fact that I can't remember the last time I complained about a company's customer service. Okay, here we go:

My mom and I opened our bags to the older woman employee. My mother had brought a metal spoon and chili and rice in a small Thermos. The woman, also known as Reject #1 , looked that little bowl up and down as through there might be a bomb in the Tupperware or a way to get the glass out. Maybe we could get a shard and hold Mickey Mouse for ransom or something. She decided she would let the Thermos pass, but the spoon... what to do about the spoon. She asked, "Are you an Annual Passport Holder?" My mom answered that she was. Reject #1 replied, "I thought so. You're not allowed to bring metal utensils into the park, because it could be used as a weapon." My mother was perplexed. She stared the spoon. Then, since she's getting quite feisty in her older age, she took the spoon in her hand and held it up in a fake threatening matter. The sun glinted on the mouth piece, and I thought for sure the Secret Service was going to pounce out of the bushes and tackle us to the ground.

We were allowed to pass just this once with the understanding that we were to never do it again!

While Reject #1 was determining our threat level Reject #2, who happened to be a grumpy old man, was watching my children. The kids, of course, were happily jousting one another with foam swords. He stood there watching them without a shred of a smirk and slowly shook his head. It might have been my imagination, but to me he seemed to drip with disdain for the activity my children were involved in. He'll have something to say when my children become the youngest Olympic gold metal winners in the jousting competition!

We made it through the docking station only to find out we might be there for a while, because they were taking one of the Monorails off-line. We decided just to walk to the park gate.

My mom wondered what to do about the spoon. She wrapped in a tissue and thought about putting it in her pocket. I almost told her not to put in her sock. Can you imagine her hiding it under her pant leg? Aye. Aye. Aye.

We got through the bag check with no problem.

And, as a side note that confirms my theory about that gate being the Rejects Gate... the man who welcomed us into the park at the main entrance, took our passes with a smile, commented on how Princess Kaeley was such a nice name, and said, "Thank you for coming, Janna!"

I wanted to answer back, "You are so welcome!" I felt like I was doing the guy a favor he was so appreciative.