I have just spent four of the last five days at Disneyland with my husband and the “older” half of our family. When we enter Disneyland the first day, we always stop to read the plaque above the entrance gates: "Here you leave the world of today and enter the world of yesterday, tomorrow and fantasy." Then we hustle under the gate and come out in a new world. As we went through the gate this trip, I was messing around with my 20-year-old son and we sort of put our hands out to the side like we were flying through the gate. We were laughing and, as we reached the other side, my son said, “Next time you need to twirl as you go through.” My husband laughed at me and said, “You’re such a dork! You’re a Disney Dork!” I took that as a compliment.
Throughout the four days, my husband and the kids teased me about being a Disney Dork. They laughed at me when I told the cast member on the Dumbo ride about my youngest daughter’s concerns that I would not have anyone to ride with (and then proceeded to ride Dumbo with my arm to the side as if I were embracing a child beside me). They laughed as I conversed with little kids throughout the park (my son said that I’m not allowed to ever again go to Disneyland without my own small children because it’s not right that I keep “borrowing” other people’s children – I didn’t actually “borrow” them, that could be construed the wrong way, I was just engaging them). They laughed at me when I cried trying to say hello to Walt and Mickey (the statues); when I cried at the castle-lighting ceremony; when I cried coming out of Small World (decorated for Christmas with a Peace on Earth theme). Well, I guess my response to this teasing is that I’m proud to be a Disney Dork (I’m thinking of getting a t-shirt that says so) and, to my family, y’all should look in the mirror when you say, “You’re a Disney Dork!” There was my daughter-in-law in the Winnie-the-Pooh ride, bopping up and down in her seat in time to the Winnie-the-Pooh music, there were our grown-up “boys” playing with bubble-guns all day under the guise of making other people happy with their bubbles. And there was my husband who texted me at the end of the day yesterday saying that, instead of heading out of the park with the rest of the group, I should turn back down Main Street and join him at W&M (the Walt and Mickey statue) so that we could say a proper goodbye before leaving. Yes, I’m a Disney Dork, but I’m not alone. If our family ever starts our own rock band I have the perfect band name: Debbie & the Disney Dorks.