I'm eight years old

I have been planning our Christmas trip to Florida since early May. Books have been purchased and consulted, websites have been read and discussed. Anyone who knows me in the every-day-world knows that all of my vacations are carefully planned, scheduled, and investigated.

All of my many tickets and necessary reservations have been taken care of over these last few months, with the notable excception of one thing. So, on Saturday, Son and I took a trip to the Disney Store to purchase our 5-day tickets to Disney World. I told the nice lady what I wanted, she told me the total, I died, they managed to bring me back to life long enough for me to hand her my credit card, and we left.

And when we got to the car, I calmly turned to Son, and then freaked out completely. All of a sudden, this trip was real. "OMIGOD, WE'RE GOING TO DISNEY! WE'VE NEVER BEEN THERE, IT'S GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO FIRST????"

And Son was all, "Mum, bring it down a few notches, okay?"

I may be a giant geek, but I am still grateful that the eight year old inside me is alive and well.