Hawaiian gospel music is something

It was about this time last week that I was heading down to the Volcano pool at Disney's Polynesian Resort. I suppose when I pulled out of Marisol's driveway shortly after 4:30 am, I didn't really figure our first stop in Disney would be the pool, no matter how volcanically impressive it was. But then, I never fail to underestimate the pull a giant hole full of chlorinated water has on a 7-year old. So when my somewhat leading question of "What do you guys want to do first?" was answered with "Go to the pool," it was all I could do to shrug.

Pools have never been my thing. I'm far from hydrophobic and am actually quite competent with all the major swim strokes. Admittedly, the Butterfly generally doesn't see a whole lot of action. I'll go so far as to say I've only regretted a handful of my swimming excursions. However, were I offered the choice of going to a pool with a really cool slide or "the happiest place on Earth" I'd pick "the happiest place on Earth" every time. I would have presumed most people not named Andy would take that option as well. Apparently, Buster's super secret lost middle name is Andrew. So with Magic Kingdom beckoning in the distance, we headed for a swim.

One of the more pleasant aspect of being poolside is that females tend to wear fewer clothes. Likewise, one of the more unpleasant aspects of being poolside is that males tend to wear fewer clothes. And at a family resort like WDW, the overriding characteristic of both sexes could best be described as sagging. The French Riviera this ain't. Thanks to all the running, I don't sag quite as much as I used to, but I more than make up for that with my complexion, which could best be described as White Out on a particularly white day. Given the pummeling my eyes take at the pool, I suppose it's only fitting that I blind everyone else.

Though the swimming segment lasted a wee bit longer than I'd had hoped, we did leave the same day we arrived which was no small feat. Every time I'd suggest to Buster that there was even more fun just across Bay Lake, he'd throw water in my face. He found this funny for some reason. Finally, I'd had all I could take and ordered the lifeguards to remove him from the pool area. Sure, this upset him but we were at WDW to have fun, not swim and by gum, we were going to have fun even if it meant scarring him for life. I knew Buster would admit his error when we saw Cinderella Castle and apologize for wasting such precious, precious time on something so frivolous as a swimming pool. I'm still waiting.

We still had plenty of time to hit all the high points. Actually, we had enough time to hit them a couple of times, except for Splash Mountain. This water ride is one of my faves and since it's normally closed during January, I haven't been able to ride it on my past few trips during the marathon. Therefore I was pumped. Pumped is a tad strong and a bit scary, but I was eager for Marisol and Buster to experience a soaking at the hands of Brer Rabbit. Perfect sense that for this I left the pool.

Alas, the 110-minute(!) wait assured we would not be thrown into the briar patch until another day. Other families were not as fortunate and I could see the pleading looks coming from the queue, begging for the sweet release of death. Feeling the queue's pain beginning to assail our joy, I ushered Marisol and Buster towards Pirates of the Caribbean because what's more uplifting than pirates pillaging unsuspecting villas?

For the rest of the day we gradually made our way around Magic Kingdom and nothing of interest to the world at large really happened. Forgive the assumption that something of interest had already happened. Though the crowds were large as expected, they were not overwhelming. Or at least nothing a swift kick in the pants couldn't take care of. Buster was offended by the pirate giving rum to the kitten on Pirates and vowed never to ride it again. Marisol did her best to get sick on Big Thunder Mountain and vowed never to ride it again. For my part, I continued to be amazed at how miserable "the happiest place on Earth" makes some people, but then I like to assume that if they're miserable at WDW then they're probably miserable everywhere. Except Andy. He's usually pretty happy at Tech games.