Just returned from a family trip to Disneyland. A week of crazy, excited, sometimes tired and crabby, living the life family fun.
So here is the discovery I made that warms my heart. Ripley really is my girl.
Ripley has been waiting with anticipation for this trip, finally tall enough to ride the coasters. She has been measured over the past few weeks, looking for any indication of growth. She has tried different shoes on. She has practiced standing tall. Last we measured, she was 47.5 inches with shoes.
Hmm. You need to be 48 inches to ride California Screamin'. We planned around this. Maybe the height markers are not perfectly accurate. Maybe, like the last trip, we will buy her bejeweled Minnie mouse shoes with a heal to push her over the edge. She continued to practice inhaling, and pretending an invisible string was pulling her up by the top of her head.
We told her to be patient. We would assess the situation, and figure out what to do.
Upon entering Disneyland, Ripley wanted to go on Space Mountain first. She was plenty tall to go on this ride, but had never been.
Her anticipation while waiting in line was contagious. She had a million questions. She bounced through the line on her toes.
Then we reached the ride platform. My girl- my chip off the old block, mini me, uttered a sentence that I will remember for the rest of my life.
"Can we ask for the front row?"
*big smile*
And she loved it.
The second official ride choice for our 2012 Disneyland trip... Space Mountain again. Front row, please.
Eventually, the time came that we entered Disney California Adventure. The moment of truth. Was she tall enough to ride California Screamin'?
Whew. It's all good.
So she really is my girl. She has figured out that the happiest place on earth is actually the front seat of a roller coaster.
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