Precious Moments with Dad Pt.4

The next day was to be spent at the then new Disney California Adventure park. At this point I just wanted to go home…the excitement and embarrassment from the preceding days events were far too great for any 18 year old to handle. But it was far from over.

Our day started off as any other family vacation would. Fist fights to see who got to take the first shower, dad stealing towels and shampoo from the maid cart, and a lovely continental breakfast in the lobby of our hotel. It was shaping up to be a good day.

After breakfast it was straight to the park. Luckily the line times at the California Adventure park weren’t nearly as long as the regular Disney Land lines. This was definitely a good thing because we no longer had the use of dad’s cripple pass. Apparently Disney won’t issue you a handicapped pass if you had two separate heart attacks on their rides in the same day… Go figure. So yeah the short line times were cool… that is until we realized that the reason the line times were so short was because Disney’s California Adventure sucks diseased baboon testicles.

But being the good sports that we are my sister and I decide to make the best of it. After a series of horrendous Disnsyfied carnival rides we found our way to the Fly Over California ride. It wasn’t spectacular or anything but it was defiantly something mom would enjoy. So after we exited the ride we snatched up mom and got right back in line leaving dad with his churro and frozen lemonade.

When we got off the ride we noticed dad wasn’t standing in the same place that he was when we left him. Fearing the worst we all scattered to look for him but before we got very far I spotted him sitting on a near by bench. As we began to approach dad I noticed he had a somewhat worried look on his face. As we drew nearer dad gingerly lifted himself off the bench and as soon as we got within an ear shot he shouted “We need to go….Now!”

Me: Ahhh fuck… you didn’t have another heart attack did you?

Dad: No…..

Me: Then why do me have to leave then?

Dad: *mumble, mumble, mumble, mumble*

Me: …….What?

Dad: * mumble, mumble, mumble* pants….

Me: Stop fucking mumbling and tell me what the hell happened!

Dad: I shit my pants!

Me: *sigh*……….God damn it dad

And that kids was the end of our vacation.