I’m blowing out of here for a week. The Girl Cousin and I are going on vacation together. (With our husbands, it isn’t girls on the town… at least, we aren’t planning on that.) In talking over our trip, we realized that we have somehow managed, despite our years, to have never gone on vacation together before.

Believe it or not, this came as a surprise to us. We always spent our summers with our mutual grandparents in Newport, RI. We have shared memories of Grandpa’s vegetable garden, of Grandma’s raspberry bushes, of the Big Rock, of the corner candy store, of our cousins across the street, of our Aunt Annie’s terrible, horrible cooking. Except, we went in alternate months, because our parents couldn’t leave the store at the same time. Shared memories, yes, but not shared vacations.

So here we are, about to embark on a trip to, of all places, Disney World, and for Christmas week, of all times. Christmas IS a shared memory for us. Having sore feet and legs on Christmas Eve is something we know well, and so do not fear the Disney lines. We used to work the wrapping table at the store during the holidays. Between us, I think we got it down to less than thirty seconds a box and no more than three pieces of tape. EVER. More than three, and you faced the wrath of Max.

For the past month, I have been torturing her with pleas that we need to buy, and wear, matching Minnie Mouse Princess ears. Neither one of us is exactly sure how serious I am.

You’ve been warned. We’re off to see the Mouse. There may be ears involved. Pictures to follow.