Hey Mickey: Thanks for Covering For Me!

My son recently turned nine and he and I along with some friends, went to Disneyland to celebrate. It occurred to me that Disney wouldn't be the same for him in the coming years. I have to assume that at some point some cynicism will set in. Mickey and Pluto will no longer be Mickey and Pluto but struggling actors sweating away in oversized animal suits. If he reads Obsession, Deceit And Really Dark Chocolate (God forbid) he may develop a much more sinister view of them. But for now they remain magical figures and I can't think of anything more wonderful than seeing children embrace the idea of magic. When Goofy saw my son's birthday pin and proceeded to lead the entire surrounding crowd in a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday my son literally lit up. I lost count of the number of times he hugged that big floppy eared guy and for a moment I too forgot about the sweaty actor underneath the suit. He was just Goofy, a jovial, anthropomorphic dog making my son feel like the luckiest boy in the whole world. Remember, my son hasn't always had the easiest time of it and I think that made the whole thing more wonderful.

It was a little less wonderful when I went to the restroom, unzipped the back zipper to my shorts and accidentally broke the zipper. So there I was in the middle of Disneyland with a big gapping hole in the back of my shorts showing off my Victoria Secret smiley face underwear.
I suppose I could have just walked around like that. One of Disneyland’s goals is to make you smile and the little yellow faces on my panties could have been seen as evidence of their success. But another goal is to be family friendly and the smiley face loses its G rating when you put it on your ass. But Disneyland’s main goal (and this is what saved me) is to convince you to buy stuff with a Disney character’s face on it. And they really don’t care what that stuff is. Plates, shot glasses, pillows, thermometers, you name it they have it in one of their, I’m guessing seventy or so, gift shops located throughout the park. In less than two minutes I was in a gift shop (my hands clasped behind my back as I secretly held my shorts together) and in less than five I had my new Mickey pants.

And that’s why I love Disneyland. It’s the only place in the world where Mickey can literally save your ass.


Kyra Davis
Bestselling Author of:
SEX, MURDER AND A DOUBLE LATTE,
PASSION, BETRAYAL AND KILLER HIGHLIGHTS,
OBSESSION, DECEIT AND REALLY DARK CHOCOLATE
and
SO MUCH FOR MY HAPPY ENDING