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Oh the squeals! We brave Disney on Ice
Thursday, September 11, 2008 When I was a little girl, one of those little girls that was helplessly pulled in to the glitter and lights and shiny hair and stretchy satin costumes of any pretty lady under a spotlight, my parents had a rule: Circus one year, ice follies the next.
The alternating made me anxious, but tickets were expensive and hiking up four-thousand stairs to seats by the ceiling with small children is an event in itself. I got that as a kid, but still, I longed to see the woman spinning over the audience by her hair and the chorus of ice dancers glide effortlessly to music piped in to the stadium. While I loved the circus years, loved the circus, I wanted to be the ice follies.
When I got an invitation to take Lil E to Disney on Ice, that's what clouded my mind. Ohhh, the ice follies and the feather tiaras and skates swathed in pale pink and electric blue covers. Lil E might not care about such things -- in fact, I knew as soon as I read through the details he'd get the same gasp from the promise of Buzz Lightyear landing on the ice -- but I knew we had to go.
Because no kid should have to wave an expensive light-up toy into the dark while a booming voice introduces sowcowing Mickey and Minnie to the thunder of small clapping hands, we asked Lil E's buddy Sam and his dad to join us. Their excitement, in the form of spontaneous squeals and truck noises and dinosaur growls that lasted from dinner through the car ride to United Center to our impatient wait in our seats before it all began, was hilarious. We bought them each a toy, I splurged on a big bag of cotton candy and we poured over each page of the program.
I was surprised I didn't think any of it was obnoxious, not the flashing lights or slapstick humor or weird Cinderella interlude or Billy Joel cover songs put to the backdrop of The Incredibles joining forces with Frozone to free Mickey and Minnie from the grips of Syndrome (huh?). Instead, I watched as my boy watched, mouth open, toy waving, eyes wide. I laughed as Lil E and his buddy yelled "BRAVO!" at the end of each act and described their favorite parts enthusiastically as we drove home way past bedtime (yes, the bad guy Syndrome was impressive to them, and yes, one of them said the entrapped mice were "exciting, powerful and fun," and I've been sworn not to say which kid it was).
Long after the finale of fireworks and parade of characters, when Lil E was finally quieted and tucked in bed, I peeked in his room just in time to see him pull the cover up over his new Buzz Lightyear toy. It was laying still on his chest and he patted it, maybe to hold it close, maybe a little reminder of the wonder and lights only hours earlier. Whatever that sweet little pat was about, I got it.
And I thought to myself that I would try, really try, to get us back to the ice again next year.
Reader Comments (2)
Awwwwyeah.