This Was the Trip We Were Looking For, Episode III
Building Light Sabers and Talking to Turtles
We woke up on day one of our Disney trip right as the sun was climbing up the Florida sky. Karen and I rolled out of bed to a 6 a.m. (5 a.m. our time) alarm, still groggy but too excited to care. We loaded the kids onto our golf cart, packed our snack bag, and cruised to the trams like some kind of sleepy suburban safari.
First stop: Hollywood Studios.
We made a beeline to the visitor center because Sophie needed her birthday button—it would basically act as her VIP pass all week. Then, we hustled over to rope drop Rise of the Resistance. That’s running to a Star Wars ride, for those who might be unfamiliar with the term “rope drop” or “resistance.”
The anticipation was electric. Grayson’s eyes were as wide as his hoodie. Brighton played it cool until we walked into what looked like a galactic base with a full battalion of Stormtroopers standing at attention. He finally broke character and whispered, “OK. This is awesome.” One of the Imperial officers even asked Sophie if it was her birthday—then promptly informed her there would be no cake. We were in Star Wars now. Empires don’t do cupcakes.
A few steps later, we boarded the Millennium Falcon. Again—speechless.
Later that morning, I got my souvenir along with Brighton. We built light sabers. Were they overpriced? Well, duh. Of course. But were they worth it? Absolutely. Especially since Grayson got to come with us. He was a little too young to build one, but that didn’t stop our guide from asking him some questions, which he answered with the seriousness of a Jedi Master. The guide looked at him and said, “This one is a future Jedi…like Yoda. Small and intelligent.”
Grayson lit up like a lightsaber. I did too.
Now, here’s the deal with the Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster: everyone was tall enough to ride…except Grayson. And since I’m a grown adult who sometimes negotiates with roller coasters like they’re enemy spies, I volunteered to sit out with him.
That’s when we noticed Cars: Lightning McQueen's Racing Academy. Grayson and I made our way in and landed front row. Cool dad moment incoming: full-size Lightning McQueen rolls out—blinking eyes, shiny paint job, the works. Grayson, already caught up in the magic, starts waving. Grayson, sharp as he is, had to know on some level it wasn’t really Lightning...but that magic has a way of sneaking past logic.
Lightning McQueen, because Disney is apparently run by wizards, looks at him and says “Hi!” right on cue.
Grayson repeatedly tapped my knee. “He said hi to me, Daddy. He said hi to me!”
Yeah. I was smiling for the next 12 hours.
We rode a few more rides and wrapped day one with tacos and total exhaustion. We didn’t realize it then, but this would be the start of opening and closing the park every single day, walking a lot of miles daily. No one complained. We all knew—this wasn’t just a vacation. It was memory bootcamp. And our crew was all in.
The Highlights Reel
We spent the rest of our days bouncing between the parks, and each one gave us its own kind of magic.
At Epcot, we rode Guardians of the Galaxy. It was awesome. I’ll admit it. But when I got off that thing, my legs were yelling, “Are you TRYING to hurt us? Can you PLEASE give us a minute to collect ourselves?” It spun in ways I didn’t know theme parks were legally allowed to spin. So fast. So, so fast. My kids wanted to eat Mexican food immediately after. I was like, “Nah, bro.”
We also rode Remy’s Ratatouille Adventure, which became our family’s favorite ride. Just good clean fun. A five-star attraction. No notes. Would shrink to the size of a rat and do again in a heartbeat.
The kids also got to talk to Crush the sea turtle. Every single one of them. And when we walked out, the group erupted in cheers—not because Crush was hilarious (he was)—but because no one got left out. That might have been my favorite part of the trip.
Magic Kingdom hit Karen and me right in the nostalgia. All the old rides we’d heard about—the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train, Aladdin’s Magic Carpets—they became new favorites for our crew. And of course, we caught the Country Bear Jamboree, because Brighton loved the movie growing up.
Let’s just say…the bears are weird. Lovably weird. The kind of show where you and your spouse keep giving each other that silent “What is happening right now?” look. But it was memorable, and that’s the goal. Actually, every adult in that building was giving each other the same look.
Our last ride in Magic Kingdom? Dumbo the Flying Elephant. Because of course it was.
We closed the trip at Animal Kingdom, catching Avatar Flight of Passage and a few others. Slower pace. Fewer crowds. A welcome breather before heading home.
From the Writer:
We spent months planning, saving, and sneaking behind our kids’ backs to make this trip happen. And it was worth every penny, every mile walked, every overpriced churro. Because our kids won’t remember what we bought them for Christmas in 2022—but they’ll remember this.
They’ll remember surprise scavenger hunts, birthday buttons, Jedi training, and Lightning McQueen saying hello.
And maybe, if I’ve done my job, they’ll remember that their mom and dad wanted to give them memories that outlasted the moment.