Do you guys want to see my picture from Disney World? Yes, I did say picture, as in singular.
Don't we both look so happy as we stand outside the home of Cinderella? And my beautiful goddaughter Jamie doesn't look at all close to death, does she? It's amazing what can change in just twenty minutes.
Minutes after exiting the lovely parking lot ferry boat, Jamie started acting funny. She said that her head hurt and her stomach felt weird. Because I am compassionate and not at all selfish, I lovingly said, "You'll be fine. Come on, the Haunted Mansion is over there and it was my favorite ride when I was ten." Hello, Peace Prize Committee, you have a real humanitarian on your hands here.
While we were in line, Jamie again said her head hurt. As we gazed out at the tombstones surrounding the waiting area, a thought occurred to me. "Hey Jame, when was the last time you drank anything?" Answer: milk, at breakfast, six hours earlier. It was 95 degrees, a billion percent humidity and we are fair skinned Midwestern people who wear SPF 8000. So yeah, not good.
The best part was that I forced Jamie to stand in line and get on the ride before allowing her to sit down and drink water and not, oh, I don't know, die of heatstroke.
After the Haunted Mansion, where Jamie saw ghosts that were both Disney-created and near-death-experience created, we sat in the shade and drank water, but Jamie still felt terrible, so we boarded the monorail and headed back to the parking lot. So yeah, less than an hour in Disney World, one ride. We did get Dole Whips, though, so I am considering the price of admission absolutely worth it.
Oh, and Jamie ended up being fine after two days in the hospital intensive care ward. Kidding, kidding. Several bottles of water, an ibuprofen or two and a couple of hours in air conditioning cleared that pesky heat stroke right up.