Pixie Dust in Your Eye

Mary Poppins herself couldn't have outdone the reproachful silence. Mike nodded. I relented.

"Oh, and all the usual ranting about smokers, the waitstaff industry, children in harnesses, line-cutters, and every single customer service misstep we could put to paper. Er, what's a trip report without all that plus underwear troubles?"

Already read all the sensible guides to a holiday with the Mouse, the ones with the little forks and stars? Wondering how a day or twenty really goes down? How much does that bagel cost in Disney dollars, anyway? "This is just a trip report," I repeated, "but then what else should it be?"