Boy Child: Mom? When will we go to Disney World again? Next month?
Me: No. Not next month.
Boy Child: Next time we go? I'm going to ride Space Mountain until I totally hurl.
Me: Yeah, me too.
Boy Child: And then? I'm going to get on the teacups and spin around really fast until I hurl!
Me: Well, you can do that yourself.
Boy Child: And then? I'm going to go to the hall of Presidents and yell, "Hey Andrew Jackson! WHATEVER!"
Me: How about hurling? Are you going to hurl on him?
Boy Child: Maybe.
Me: I was just sensing a theme.
Boy Child: I can't wait until we go again!
Me: Yeah. I know. Next time I think we should fly though.
Boy Child: Fly? Why?
Me: Well, it took us about twelve hours in the car because of all the stupid, horrible drivers. In the plane? It would take an hour and a half.
Boy Child: Aww. I'd rather drive.
Me: Boy Child. You'd rather spend twelve hours in a car instead of an hour and a half on a plane? Are you on crack?
Boy Child: No. It's just...when we go on long trips? You talk and sing and laugh the whole time. It's so fun.
He won't think so when he's fourteen, I'm afraid. But for now? I'll take it.