I've always thought that Mickey was kinda creepy. A short little boy mouse that has a girly voice, wears tights, and has two big circles in an oddly familiar spot on his shorts. Kinda creepy.
But going to Disney World with my family is a very different experience than I expected. It's more than just seeing Mickey in a cartoon. It's even more than being inside the past 60 years of Sunday evening cartoons, Pixar movies, and Disney movie sets all at once.
Oddly enough, it's more than even meeting every magical character that you grew up with and introducing them to your kids, or even being convinced that your dreams can come true even if you're 38 and starting to bald more than you thought you would.
It's better than all those.
It's a week of time with your family that you won't forget; it's enough pictures to keep you going at 4 family reunions. It's a really good beer where you didn't expect to find it, and a wild turkey leg the size of a small ham. It's watching a mouth drop seeing the princesses for the first time, catching a backpack in mid air as we drop 13 stories on the Tower of Terror, it's trading a pin for the first time with one of the workers and finding out it really is free. It's a fight over who gets to hold your hand walking through the streets, a sleeping girl on my shoulder while the Castle lights in in hundreds of different ways, and a long, tight hug as you speed down a track in a car at 60 mph.
Those are the kinds of things that made the trip magical, the things I will never forget.
And those are the reasons I now think Mickey rocks.
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