I've been thingking a bit more about the stay so far at the Spendigest Place on Earth and I have to say, the kids are happy, the drive is not terrible, I expected to be gouged at every turn, and our hotel is beautiful. So why am I so annoyed?
Vacations bring out the worst in people. They magnify the worst character traits, try the patience of saints, exhaust the stamina and ability to deal and make everyone come off in the worst possible way. Of course, to strangers, we're all lovely and peaches and cream, and the hosts and hostesses of Disney certainly exude a strange politeness which doesn't sit well with me, but to each others, we are all mean and short tempered.
Then they wonder why I kicked the bejesus out of that mouse.