How to feel like an ass

Paul and I went on our weekly outing to Disneyland this Sunday. I say weekly, but I more so mean that for the past 2 Sundays we have gone to Disneyland and I am hoping the trend sticks...therefore I am calling it "a weekly trip". Mind you we aren't die hard Disneyland freaks. I don't get decked out in a Mickey sweater. I don't wear a "I'm Grumpy" t-shirt and we certainly don't walk around Disneyland wearing our Annual Passports around our necks in a plastic protective sleeve on a lanyard with tons of Disney pin flare for the tourists to covet. Not that there is anything wrong with that - - I am just saying, that isn't us. We are more so quiet Disneyland dwellers that appreciate the magic that is Disneyland for a couple of hours on Sunday and then go home to our Mickey free home.I have been to Disneyland more than a handful of times and I thought I was familiar with most of the attractions there. BUT this Sunday we stumbled upon Mickey and Minnie's house in Toon Town. Toon Town at night is a desolate area. No one goes there because it really doesn't have much to offer in rides and it is mostly just fun toony-type things to look at. But we went and visited Minnie and Mickey's house. I don't want to give the wrong impression here, seeing as this is a place that prides itself on family entertainment, so I should clarify that they live in separate houses. Although they are in fact direct neighbors. I am not sure if they met before they decided to be neighbors or if one day Minnie unassumingly moved into the house next door as Mickey checked out the hot mouse tail that just became his neighbor. But once again, I digress. So we toured Minnie's house which was a parade of girly pink and fluff.As you can see Paul made himself comfortable on her loungy chair which sat next to her vanity mirror with over sized perfume bottles and too much makeup. I never knew Minnie was in such close approximation to the vain women who have bathrooms stuffed to the gills with MAC and Smashbox makeup...though I should have known, after all she is a mouse from the O.C.

We then made our way to Mickey's bachelor pad next door. Though I am convinced it is all for show and that Mickey in fact spends most of his nights shacking up at Minnie's powder puffy home. Mickey had all the typical guy stuff. Sports gear lying around, mops to give off the impression that he was super clean. A music room, which I am sure he brings the ladies home to and plays the piano contraption to get them all a flutter.--sorry Minnie.

Anyhow, we walked through Mickey's entire house enjoying the cool cartoony views. Making sarcastic comments here and there...because that's how we do. And at the end of the house after we walked through his kitchen, his music room, his garden...we found ourselves in some sort of holding room with children and their parents. Clearly, we were waiting for something but we had no idea what. The kids seemed somewhat excited when the over enthusiastic Disney worker asked them what was waiting for them behind the door....they all shouted Mickey!!!! Paul and I looked at each other with the look of "oh we are so lame" We then found ourselves reluctantly waiting in line, mind you behind 10 small children...to get our picture taken with Mickey. We were going to leave, but didn't want to be rude house guests so we got our picture taken. I didn't get a chance to ask him why Minnie and him haven't taken the plunge, we didn't get a chance to have a beer with him and see what he has been doing since his latest film...but we now have a picture together with Mickey Mouse with no child to speak of in the picture with us, which would have made it a little more normalized. I think this puts us in a different league however I still refuse to wear Disney apparel and mom jeans. Maybe someday...in a land far far away. But not today!