Adult Children

Childood is a time reserved for wide eyed wonder, novel experiences and doing everything in your power to skirt the line of getting grounded. It is a simple time, loaded with hilarity and embarassment.

Adulthood is a time to rehash those childhood experiences. . . With alcohol. We remember the times we spent in our youth, appreciate the pure glee we got out of almost every moment, and do all the things that previously would have gotten us grounded.

We spend our adult lives attempting to recreate the simplicity of childhood. From the freedom teenagers enjoy to the excitement kids have at the mention of their favorite cartoon character, true childhood experiences nearly always trump our adult recreations.

This weekend I learned one time where childhood falls short.

What is the most memorable experience of nearly everyone's childhood? Disneyland. Princes and princesses, coasters and teacups. A(n impressively) pink castle and the four "mountains" signifying the four corners of Walt Disney's dream. Disneyland, even for the most embittered, is an iconic reminder that childhood is a state of mind.

But Disneyland can be, and was this weekend, a more hilarious experience than it was in my childhood.

Let me set the scene: take five of your closest friends, add in a few random stragglers for good measure. Combine with a healthy obsession for all things Disney (my first kiss? God as my witness, Minnie Mouse. She wanted me, and Mickey knew it. Sucker). Add 12 drinks in three hours. Shake in the Matterhorn, two servings of Splash Mountain and Indiana Jones' Adventure. Undoubtedly this is what heaven is like. We'll call the resulting cocktail "Adult Disneyland."

I am not sure how many Disney security guards told me to stop running, but I know how many I listened to. Also, giant turkey legs chased with churros and beignets make me happy. Also, margaritas (Even if they cost $10 each).

And, while alcohol gives adults a means to access the unabashed (and admittedly ridiculous) joy their everyday lives often fails to grant, it can also take away irrational fear left in the wake of childhood. Case in point: Splash Mountain.

I hated Splash Mountain. Feared. Loathed. Cringed at the thought of. I believed Br'er Rabbit deserved his fate. Stealing is wrong. Over the waterfall he goes. (Don't fret, dear reader, he is fine. He is a cartoon. A metric ton of Acme explosives couldn't stop him.)

Adult Disneyland changed my perspective. I want to steal carrots with the furry bastard and poke fun at Br'er Bear. At the end of the day we can take a turn down the creek ending with a short fifty foot drop. (Thank you, Coors Light.)

Disneyland is the happiest place on Earth. Adult Disneyland is the most fun. I plan on going back to both in the near future.

(Note: Undoubtedly someone will read this and think to themselves "alcoholic." They couldn't be further from the truth, but I appreciate your concern. Every once in a while drinking, even to excess, can make any experience more entertaining. Here it made my favorite place in the world a little more fun for a few hours.)