We’re going to visit a major theme park. Its in Florida. Its reach, as a cultural meme, as a historical presence in the global funscape, as a generator of a continent’s weight of awkward snapshots with suited mascots, is massive. Incalculable. Leviathanic.
And due to some serendipitous shake, we’re able to allow the minions to bring a friend each.
Imagine the insane hella good time they are going to have with prepaid meal cards, passes to all of the various kingdoms of this major theme park, a little pocket change, their BEST FRIEND, and the one thing that really, really matters: a cell phone. They will, essentially, be free to roam.
Here’s what the girl asks: does the place we’re staying at have a pool?
Here’s what the boy asks: can I bring my x-box?
This on the very day he arrives home from a week at computer camp at Northwestern University where he had a room in a greystone frat house with air conditioning and wifi, where he was taught the nuances of building online gaming word maps; this, after a summer of six flags, skateboards, and the Vans Warped Tour; this after we feed him.
Can I bring my x-box?
No, you unabashed, ungrateful little ponce, you may not bring your !@#$%^ X box.
Missed your blog. Hope you have a great vacation.