Today was our last full day in Florida. The plan was to take advantage of one final visit to a theme park. Consequently, we were all up slightly earlier than usual. Enough of these lazy lie-ins—there’s still some fun to be had.
We had agreed to be out of the house by 11 am this morning when discussing today’s plans last night. That was still reasonably late compared to what it could have been, but we’re still on holiday and still taking things relatively easy. We decided not to stop for breakfast on the way to the Universal resort area, opting instead to survive on snacks in the park. Frugal calculation of how not to waste money on theme park prices has long since fallen by the wayside. Now, it’s survival mode and be damned the expense. Let’s get through the day intact and be thankful for that.
Joey was not cooperating today. He wasn’t in the best of moods from the moment he got up and was refusing to listen to anything he was told. I asked several times to ensure everyone had their entrance tickets and disability access passes. Joey felt I was being overly fatherly and cautious, and that he didn’t need to pay attention to me. In retrospect, we think this behaviour is primarily driven by his anxieties now kicking into overdrive. This is our last day, so we face many uncertainties ahead. He constantly struggles with uncertainties. This is also the last opportunity he’ll have to acquire anything new, so the anxiety of missing out is also playing on his mind. When it finally came time to get into the car, he then realised he didn’t have his tickets, or at least they weren’t where he insisted he had left them, which was on the kitchen counter.
Despite the cries of ‘I told you so’ thrashing repeatedly back and forth in my head, I bit my tongue. Even though I was fuming inside, showing any outward sign of irritation would only deepen the crisis at this point. We all exited the car to look for the missing ticket. After a while, I proclaimed we should leave without it, since we could get a new one at Guest Services anyway. However, the tickets were attached to a keychain, and that’s what Joey was upset about. He even said that the entry tickets meant nothing to him. Fortunately, Jae yelled from upstairs that she’d found the tickets and attached keychain. They were upstairs in Joey’s lair. I took a deep breath to try to centre my zen. It wasn’t working, but we all loaded into the car nonetheless.
The mood in the car was sombre all the way to the Universal resort area. Any attempt to make small talk with Joey was met with mumbles of discontent, like it was offensive to him to be spoken to by anyone, or at least by me. It’s pointless to fight this behaviour with force, as we’ve learned over the years through agonising trial and error. The best we could hope for was for him to climb down from the earlier incident in his own time, which he does most of the time. Sometimes, I feel it’s a race between him calming down and me running out of patience and snapping. The latter has already happened once or twice on this holiday, but I’m getting steadily better at it.
We parked in one of the multi-story car parks and made our way through City Walk towards the Universal Islands of Adventure entrance. Irritations were to be a prominent feature for me today, starting with the fact that some of the moving walkways were still not working. Another bugbear of mine is that there are always fewer moving walkways moving in the direction of the majority of the people. I tried putting all these irritations aside.
There was a forecast for some rain today, but it was reported as light and short-lived. We walked through some drizzle on the way to the entrance, so we were starting our theme park adventure today a little damp and soggy. It was significantly cooler than it had been, and the humidity was off the charts. It felt like walking through treacle.
We ticked off several rides throughout the day, including the Incredible Hulk, Dr Doom’s Fearfall, Kong, etc.
As luck would have it, I spotted a concession stand selling turkey legs, so Jae and I made our way through one of those between us—delicious. We shared bites from it in turns, just as we did in EPCOT a couple of weeks ago. I’m not sure which of us enjoyed it more; it was a close-run thing.
The Spider-Man ride wasn’t operating. I don’t think that helped with Joey’s mood. It was hard to tell.
By now, it was raining a little more persistently, sending us looking for refuge in one of the nearby cafés. We waited there for a good 10-15 minutes, hoping the rain would ease. By the time it did, Spiderman had reopened for business, so we doubled back to give it a try. The Express Lane was fuller than I’ve seen it before. The queue stretched out into the street, so it wasn’t looking good. After a couple of minutes, Sandy spoke with one of the cast members about finding a quieter place to wait in line. Indeed, she ended up doing better, convincing the supervisor to send us around via the exit and directly to the loading point.
Although the Spiderman ride was working, it wasn’t working very well. Clearly, they were having technical difficulties. The movement of the ride vehicle, the audio soundtrack and the 3D screen movies were all significantly out of synch with each other—so much so that we were sometimes moving about with nothing being displayed on the screen and while the soundtrack from the previous segment was playing. Eventually, the ride vehicle stopped altogether, and they even brought up the lights in the show building. That illuminated the inside of the building, revealing things that nobody was supposed to see. It was clearly spoiling the magic, but everyone in our car was laughing at the silliness of it all. I found it fascinating to see the exposed plumbing, ducting, lit-up projection screens, and other details that are usually invisible to riders under normal circumstances. Our ride car sputtered its way through the predefined track, going through the normal range of motions, but without the accompanying moving images or sound. It was bizarre to say the least.
When we exited the ride, a cast member was handing out free one-time-use Express Lane passes as compensation for the malfunctioning ride. Since we all had disability passes, these were useless to us, so I collected them in anticipation of finding someone in the park who we might make happy by gifting them away. Joey insisted on holding on to his.
Jae was keen to do Dudley Do-Right’s Ripsaw Falls, so we made our way over to Toon Lagoon. Sadly, the ride wasn’t operating. Many rides throughout the park were in and out of operation throughout the day due to inclement weather.
By now, Joey was being so difficult that Sandy decided she would take him to Universal Studios, where he would be much happier with the Transformers ride. She whispered that she didn’t want his obstinacy to spoil the day for Jae and me, and suggested we continue to have some fun together here. I was conflicted. On the one hand, it was the right call, but at what cost? We’re breaking up the family once again for the sake of keeping the peace and preserving what fun we could squeeze from the situation. Once again, it’s a compromise to make the best of the situation, given the cards we had been dealt. It was with a heavy heart that I watched Sandy and Joey walk off into the crowd.
During one of the heavier downpours, we sought refuge in a restaurant to wait out the rain for a bit. When we tried to enter, we were told that there was a queue to be seated and that we would need to join it. That would have meant standing out in the rain, which Jae wasn’t about to accept. She told me to tell the cast member she needed to sit. She was adamant about this. I did so, and he initially suggested he could grab a chair. Not content to live with that, Jae took the bull by the horns and walked in to find a table. There were a few available, but they hadn’t yet been cleared away. Jae found one and ‘informed’ the cast member we’d sit here. I was a little taken aback. This is the sort of social engineering I would engage in, so I was surprised to see this coming from Jae.
The plan was to wait here a while until the rain had subsided. Jae wanted a drink, which I would have been happy to buy for her, but I pointed out we would soon be in Hogsmeade, where they had butterbeer. She decided it was worth holding out until then.
The one ride we both wanted to do was VelociCoaster. Fortunately, it has just started operating again, so we made our way over there through a brief break in the rain. We made it all the way to the loading bay when they announced they would be suspending operations, although we weren’t being kicked out just yet.
Jae and I often mock each other, or in some other way, we’re sarcastic towards each other. At one point, just as we were making our way out of the elevator to where we would be scanned with hand-held metal detectors, I made some sarcastic quip about how Jae sometimes beats or hits me. She wanted to underscore the point, but the only thing that came to mind quickly for her was to roll her walker at me. The front metal support beam struck me on my shin, sending me reeling, which brought her to tears of laughter. Love can be pretty painful at times in my family. I feigned much more hurt than was the case, even going so far as to drag my foot limping and claiming that blood was running down my leg. This amused her even further.
Fortunately, despite the announcement, we managed to secure one of the last launches before they ceased operations.
Upon exiting, the rain was now severe. This was undoubtedly the cause of the cessation of operations. We didn’t see any lightning directly, but they always close the outdoor rides at the first hint of a thunderstorm.
While waiting for a pause in the downpour, I found a small group of people and offered them my three Express Lane tickets. That was my good deed for the day.
Although we had discussed doing the Forbidden Journey and Hagrid rides, the persistent rain was making the day really rather miserable. We made an on-the-spot decision to grab some butterbeer and then make our way back to the car.
After discussing it with Sandy over the phone, I offered Jae the option of having dinner at the Hard Rock Café, since she missed out on the chance a few days ago. To our surprise, she elected to go straight home instead and to order some food in. That cleared the path for Sandy and me to have dinner at the Texas Roadhouse again, which we enjoyed so much yesterday afternoon. It would also make for a cheaper dinner.
We braved the downpour all the way to Hogsmeade, where Jae ordered no less than two cups of butterbeer with cream foam on top. She did try to get them to add extra foam. When she did this at Epic Universe, they complied without question. However, here they refused—again—claiming it wasn’t allowed. Such a refusal wouldn’t have stopped me at all, and I would have engaged with them much more persistently. However, Jae insisted I not embarrass her and begged me not to intervene. She clearly still has some way to go before reaching my level of tenacity.
I took the walker, freeing Jae up to carry her two butterbeers, which she’d consumed entirely by the time we reached the car. It wasn’t much longer thereafter before Sandy and Joey arrived. That was fortunate, as I’d given Sandy the keys to the car earlier, thinking she might take Joey home before returning to collect us. In the event, they stayed a little longer in Universal Studios after all. Joey scored a new Transformers top and, of course, another Transformer toy—his mood had clearly improved from the morning’s stress. Sandy was clear with him that it was coming from his pocket money, but her tone was gentle. She knew he’d needed this.
Our last theme park day was semi-successful. We encountered some issues and irritations along the way, and we had to split up to protect the family unit as a whole; however, everyone still found some enjoyment. It was a pity the weather didn’t cooperate, but there’s really no controlling the weather.
Sandy asked both kids in the car whether they wanted to join us for dinner at the steakhouse, but neither was keen. Sandy was upset by this. That was evident in her silence as much as her sombre tone. She wanted to have that perfect end-of-day sit-down meal together. Joey was never going to pick up on those cues, and Jae was nose-deep into her phone. Alas, it wasn’t to be this time. Some you win, and some you lose.
After the drive home, we all went in to dry up a little. We were all wet through to the skin.
Even though it was just me and Sandy, our prime rib dinner was looking like it would be the perfect end to the day. Oh my, how I was wrong about that. The meal itself was indeed excellent, leaving us satiated and hobbling out of the restaurant for the second time in as many days. However, strife was just around the corner.
After refuelling the car for probably the last time, we stopped briefly at Publix to pick up a couple of last things we still needed before leaving the house for the last time tomorrow afternoon. When we got home, we turned our attention to the necessary task of packing. This is where the real fun started, and I use the word ‘fun’ quite wrongly.
I sat myself down at the laptop on the veranda, where I would be out of the way of the rest of the family rushing around packing, to handle the airline check-in procedures. Sandy and the kids were packing the last remaining suitcase. We had packed four out of the five suitcases Sandy had insisted would be all we needed. Joey was dragging his feet with the packing. Most of what was left to find a space in a suitcase was his, so it was really frustrating that he wasn’t making any progress. I kept drawing this to Sandy’s attention, but she kept repeating that everything would fit in the remaining half-empty suitcase. Each time I went inside, I looked around and couldn’t help but conclude there was just no way it was all going to fit. It was clear to me that Sandy’s ‘it will be okay’ mentality was blinding her to the scale of the problem. This was a train wreck starting to play out right before my eyes.
Sandy and Joey were becoming progressively stressed and emotional. Jae was busy trying to help. She read the situation well, picking up on the fact that both Sandy and Joey were overwhelmed. She was making positive suggestions, helping me to tie up the suitcases, and so on. All the while, she was trying to pack her own things, so she was multitasking while reading the room. The problem was that they were trying to put a quart into a pint jug, and they weren’t seeing it. The problem was that we would be charged $100 for each extra bag checked. Sandy was reluctant to accept that it would be necessary to check more than just one extra bag. From my point of view, it was only a matter of time before the penny dropped for both Joey and Sandy.
When I checked us in, it required that I confirm the number of bags we’d be checking. I went in to tell Sandy that I needed her to confirm the number of bags. Still, she persisted that just one bag would be enough, and that Joey was upstairs squeezing it all in.
Against my better judgment, I took Sandy at her word. I completed the check-in process and paid the $100 fee after confirming we would be checking in five bags.
I continued writing at the laptop when the inevitable finally happened. Joey came out and claimed he was under the impression Sandy had promised him an extra suitcase. In fact, she did. Joey was given two suitcases, but he now claimed he thought she meant another one on top of the two he had. He was practically in tears with stress about not being able to take everything home. I went in to discuss this with Sandy. She, too, was now at the end of her tether, about to collapse from the stress of it all. This was the train wreck I had been predicting all along, but I was challenged each time I tried to bring it up. If ever there was a time I could say ‘I told you so,’ this would be it. Naturally, saying that out loud would be adding fuel to this now raging fire. Something needed to give.
I decided I had to act. I proclaimed we needed more suitcase space, as it’s abundantly clear that five just isn’t going to cut it. We need another one, possibly two. I took effective charge of the packing process from this point forward. I did this as much to offload the burden from Sandy as anything else.
Sandy had brought two foldable plastic cases with her. One was packed inside the other, which was now full. Out of frustration, Sandy upended her bag, emptying its contents everywhere and handed me the spare bag. As if to acknowledge my unspoken question about why she did that, she cried that she was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. She had done a great job to this point, but she was clearly spent and needed a break. As the person always in charge of packing, I suspected Sandy felt like she had failed this time around. That sense of failure wasn’t helping her at the moment. I suggested she go to bed, and I would drive to Target to get another bag. It was clear that even the extra foldable bag wouldn’t contain everything that still needed packing.
I drove to Target and went in search of a solution. Suitcases aren’t cheap. A full-sized travel suitcase can easily top $100—to say nothing of the $100 the airline charges to check it in. I didn’t much fancy that, so I went looking for another solution. I eventually found a foldable laundry hamper with a lid. It was lightweight, had about the same volume as a full-sized suitcase, and was just $15. I added to that a roll of plastic stretch wrapping tape for another $15, and that would be the solution: a little unorthodox, to be sure, but any port in a storm.
Back at home, the stress levels had subsided somewhat, but there was also a growing acceptance that they had been pushing a boulder that was too heavy up a hill that was too steep. I set to work helping the kids find the last remnants of possessions dotted around the house, and we slowly but surely got everything in…mostly. Both kids were brilliant. Even Joey was now calmer and more focused. He now recognised Sandy was stressed and offered her cuddles a couple of times. I’m still a little concerned there are more carry-on bags than are strictly permitted, but we now have seven suitcases (one of which is actually a laundry hamper) packed, zipped, taped and strapped closed.
This evening has been one of the most stressful times I can recall—not just from this holiday. I had seen this coming from a mile away, but I had been powerless to prevent it from unfolding as it did. For me, that was the most challenging part of all. In the end, we overcame the family dysfunction: everyone played their part in getting through the ordeal. Of that, I couldn’t be prouder.