
We decided to take the family on a trip to Disney World. It was the first time for our five- and seven-year-old granddaughters. The drive? About 18 hours. We pulled out of the driveway at 5:30 a.m. No problems.
The seven-year-old had been learning about states in school, so as we crossed each state line, we’d shout its name and everyone would cheer. One state down—so many more to go.
Somewhere in our third state, the five-year-old sighed and said, “I’m tired of all these little states. Just tell me when we get to the state of Japan.”
No problem.
The day rolled on smoothly. The kids napped between viewings of Cinderella for the thousandth time. Before we knew it, the giant, gaudy South of the Border sign appeared on the horizon. If you’ve never seen it, it’s a long-standing tourist trap-slash-rest stop sitting right on the North/South Carolina border. Bright lights, oversized cement animals, buildings painted in every color of the rainbow. It’s been around since the 1950s, and for us, it’s almost a mandatory stop on the way to Florida.
We pulled into the lot.
“Everybody up!” I called. “Time to stretch!”
The five-year-old popped up, looked out the van window, and gasped.
“We made it! Oh my gosh, we’re really at Disney World! I can’t believe it!”
Without missing a beat, my husband said, “Yep! We made it to Disney World! I think I just saw a princess go around the corner!”
I gave him a look.
He leaned in and whispered, “Just think of all the time and money we’d save if they really believe this is Disney.”
He’s smiling. I’m not.
Meanwhile, the seven-year-old had leapt from the van and planted herself in front of her twirling little sister.
“This is NOT DISNEY!” she shouted, her voice rising with each sentence.
“Do you see any CASTLES?
Do you see any PRINCESSES?
Do you see MICKEY MOUSE!?”
The five-year-old stopped twirling and looked crushed.
“Rats. I thought this was Disney.”
She crossed her arms and added, “Well… at least tell me we’re as far as Japan.”
My husband and I just stared at each other.
I said, “Well, I suppose we could take her to Epcot. They do have a Japan.”
He shook his head.
“No, no. All we have to do is tell her the Georgia Welcome Center is the entrance to Japan. She’ll never know the difference.”
It’s going to be a long trip.

