Let me set the scene. Its 1989, I am a blonde haired, blue eyed five-year-old (none of which I am now). We have plans to go to Disneyworld in Florida, but I have chicken pocks (I’ve never actually tried to spell that until now). It’s getting closer and closer to the day, and I still have them, and it looks like we may have to cancel. Miraculously, I recover within a few days of the trip and we are off to Florida.
We get to the hotel, it was Disney operated. It had a sort of play room and a theater that shows Disney movies for free. This is where I meet Kate. That may have been her name and when she told me what state she was from it sounded like a foreign land to five-year-old me. We formed an instant bond. It’s funny because I only have very hazy memories of the times in Disney World. I remember the small world, Indiana Jones, some underwater thing. I also remember getting awful, skin peeling sunburn and swallowing ocean water which prompted me to feed the fishes with my vomit (my one and only trip to the ocean). I can however remember exactly how that hotel looked. I remember watching Dumbo with Kate and eating popcorn and our parents sitting in the back and snickering and probably dying from all the cuteness and me and Kate expressing our annoyance to each other. I remember there was a magic show and it was pretty late and me trying to hide how sleepy I was. With every trick, we would look at each other, mouths agape with amazement. I remember the play room and us playing various games together. I remember she left a day or two before we did and how sad I was.
I wonder if she remembers me.