Minnie and Tigger Go On Vacation

The Minnie and Tigger Experience

When we were younger, we took many road trips, for living in Kentucky we were in the perfect epicenter to travel to many states, and we were fortunate to have parents that wanted to see the country that we relocated to from our beautiful and former home of Cape Town, South Africa. We saw the caverns in the Virginias, the coastlines of the Carolinas, and the tallest buildings ever in New York City. We went to children’s museums in Indianapolis and went to the Cincinnati Zoo where they had French fries in the shapes of animals. We rode a camel and an elephant, and the pictures of those times are just adorable. My sister was so small, as was I, and it is just so funny to see those pictures because I do not remember physically being that small, but of course there is evidence in thousands of photographs and slides that indeed, we were wee little things in little clothes. And little people wear little clothes, and oh the clothes our mothers would have us wear. Whenever my sister and I are together, we like to remind her of the horrors of our closets in the good old 1980s and early 1990s.

When my sister and I were very small- me being maybe about 9 and she about 6, we ventured to Disney World in Florida in our station wagon with our beloved Granny sitting in the middle.

The plan was to go to Disney world and see all the sites including Busch Gardens and Epcot Center, as well as touring Universal Studios which was absolutely thrilling. I thought I was going to pee in my pants when I went with my dad on the Magic Mountain rollercoaster (for those not familiar, it is in the dark), and raised above the ground. At first it felt like the quintessential essence of hell; That darkness that enveloped children’s screams. I did however want to ride in it again afterwards, but I don’t recall dad wanting that same experience.

Granny got each of us a gift; I got a stuffed Tigger, who I still have, and my sister got a stuffed Minnie Mouse, who tragically was abandoned in a San Antonio hotel room. The drive up to visit relatives in New York was hell for everyone, for my sister and I drove every single family member berserk having a contest with who could say the name of the other person’s stuffed animal more than the other person’s stuffed animal.

“Minnie! Minnie! Minnie! Minnie!” I would yell at the top of my lungs, noticing our poor beloved Granny with her hands over her, only to keep them there when my sister yelled back in her high -pitched voice,

“Tigger! Tigger! Tigger! Tigger!”

This went on for what seemed like forever, and we would be told to stop; We would tone it down but we would continue to whisper the names of each other’s stuffed animal to each other and kind of slap each other out of spite just because it was a game and neither of us wanted to lose. At one point I shouted,

“Minnieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” and repeated this fifteen times.

Dad pulled the car over and yelled at the top of his lungs, threatening to “rip those damn stuffed animals heads off and throw them out the bloody window!” There were of course more expletives, and he still rolls his eyes when I remind him of the time we went to Disney World. To this day, whenever I am blue and yearn to connect with my sister, I text her,

“Minnie! Minnie! Minnie! Minnie!” and laugh so hard I lose my breath. We were young little punks, we loved our granny, and we were spoiled rotten to the point where Dad and mom would probably have been more than happy to leave us at Disney World for a day so they could have a peace of mind and their sanity restored.