As has become typical, both kids were sound asleep well into the morning after Sandy and I got up. Last week, Joey dropped a slipper onto the glass side table by the front door, breaking the glass mirror. I have been trying to find a way to rectify this ever since. I had an arrangement with a local glazier to provide me with a replacement mirror, but he turned out not to be reliable. At least, he stopped replying to my messages and e-mails, and now his phone goes straight to voicemail with a message indicating his mailbox is full and not accepting any more messages. Sandy and I were pondering other potential options this morning. According to information from their website, Lowe’s, one of the “we sell everything” types of hardware stores here in America, will cut glass for you if you bring it to them. They had an inexpensive framed mirror for sale that was slightly larger than the broken pane, so I figured this would be our salvation. I did try to call to confirm, but calls to/from my mobile tend to have an abysmal connection—possibly due to the cheap eSIM I have. The woman on the other end of the line couldn’t hear or understand me, so we took a chance and drove the twenty minutes to the Lowe’s in Hanes City.
Along the way, Sandy and I disagreed about how best to remove and dispose of the broken pane. It’s still in place, but there are several cracks along one end. It’s 13.5” x 45” (about 35 cm x 114 cm). This was another one of those situations where I needed to be convinced her idea would work, and I wasn’t. Sandy’s explanation of how she planned to break up the glass and remove it, by breaking it inside a plastic bag or a box, left me thinking it would be a bit dodgy and potentially harmful. The glass pane isn’t tempered, so it breaks into larger shards, as opposed to shattering into lots of smaller chunks, which can just be swept up. I worried that not all of the glass would break as desired, resulting in large shards littering the floor. Whether the problem was with Sandy’s approach or just her ability to articulate how she envisioned it in her mind, I don’t know. It remained a source of contention between us throughout the morning. I suspect that the lethargy and exhaustion from having all this fun on holiday may have contributed to the slightly dampened mood between us today. Sandy had needed a cuddle from me earlier this morning, but I’m notoriously poor at picking up on those signals. That left Sandy feeling a little isolated, so that likely factored in as well. I have to take that one on the chin.
At Lowe’s, the woman in the glass department immediately confirmed that they don’t cut glass brought in, despite my assertion that their website indicated otherwise. After some delicate and diplomatic negotiations with her (I can be pretty persuasive when I need to be), she agreed to check with her manager, who gave her permission to attempt to cut the framed mirror down to size. We found the mirror, which was only $9.95, so there was nothing to lose by giving it a try. She had to tear the backing from the frame first, but that revealed that the entire frame and mirror were glued securely to each other. There was no way she could cut it. I offered to pay for the now destroyed mirror, but she said she’d tape up the back and mark it down, which was kind of her.
For the next ten minutes, she helped me get in touch with glaziers whom we might turn to next. We eventually found one in Lakeland, half an hour from where we were. They said they’d cut us the glass on the spot if we drove over there. It was more expensive, at $75, but it was our responsibility to make good on the repair, so that’s just life.
Just like Bunning’s back in Australia, this hardware store had someone out the front selling hot dogs and other snacks. We picked up a couple on the way to the car, which served as our breakfast.
Half an hour later, we arrived in Lakeland. The glazier was there waiting for us, complete with an invoice slip for the $75. I showed him the photos of the broken mirror and gave him the measurements. He wasted little time trimming down a quarter-inch-thick pane of mirror and smoothed the edges in the process. He even put it into the car for us. I asked whether there were any rules regarding the disposal of glass, but he said to toss the old glass into a dumpster. It was at this point that the discussion about how best to break up the remaining broken pane resurfaced. Sandy and I quickly went into competition with each other on the subject, which escalated quickly. Each of us was subliminally trying to convince the onlooker which of us was correct. Clearly seeing the danger of getting sucked into the vortex of a marital disagreement, he chose instead to laugh nervously while shaking his head as if to declare his neutrality. It was, admittedly, a bit of light-humoured slapstick.
After refuelling the car for the umpteenth time, we made our way back home. As we had theme park plans for this afternoon, we stashed the mirror safely and will install it later this weekend. I’m almost certain that won’t result in any disagreements or arguments between us…well, almost certain.
Joey and Jae were now both awake. After perusing the ride wait times at Epic Universe through the Universal app, we decided to take advantage of the complimentary tickets Sandy had scored for us a few days ago. Since we’re now rapidly running out of days, I wanted to ensure we benefit from the tickets before something gets in the way.
As Joey and Jae prepared for the day, they both pointed out that they had exhausted the data allowance on their eSIMs bundles I had bought for them for the month. They, assisted ably by their mother, were pressuring me to ‘resolve’ the matter. I thought I had made several compelling arguments for why I felt it wasn’t necessary. We only had a few more days left to go, and they would have wifi access pretty much everywhere from here on anyway. Spending money on a 30-day top-up for the sake of a few days wasn’t cost-effective. Their bundles weren’t top-up-able, so it would mean having to buy new eSIMs and installing them separately, which was a hassle. All of my arguments were reasonable, sound and logical, or so I thought. But then they all looked at me beseechingly in unison, their puppy dog eyes boring deeply into my soul. For a brief moment, it was a contest between who would persist the most. I broke before they did and bought them both another 3Gb each. Sometimes, you can’t win.
Putting my wins and losses (and by that, I mostly mean losses) of the morning to one side, I was in a happy frame of mind and very much looking forward to another terrific day at Epic Universe. The parking gods were also smiling on me this morning. I paid my perfectly reasonable, and really relatively cheap when you think about it, $35 for the privilege of leaving the car stationary (breathe in, breathe out – the moment will pass). This time, I mentioned at the kiosk that we had people with mobility issues and a walking frame, and asked whether we could at least get closer to the entrance. The lovely young man asked me whether we had a disabled sticker. I was economical with the truth. In the most apologetic and regretful tone I could muster, I said we didn’t bring one with us from Europe. That was, in fact, true. The bit I left out was that we didn’t have one in Europe to bring with us. However, the mobility issues part was still all true, so most of my conscience remained intact. He radioed through to someone and received a positive reply, directing us to the right to the disabled parking section. As luck would have it, the spot closest to the front of the section, and closest to the entrance itself, was vacant, so I pulled up and parked there. Winning. We claimed our complimentary tickets at the Guest Services window and were in. Let the fun begin.
First up was the Isle of Berk. Ever since Sandy first learned of Epic Universe, she had become enamoured with the Toothless meet and greet. They have designed a robotic Toothless that has an extensive range of movements, which makes it incredibly realistic, not to mention butter-melting-in-the-mouth cute. The videos don’t do the cuteness justice. It really melts your heart. For months now, Sandy has been on a mission in her mind to score some family photos with Toothless. Unfortunately, when we were here a few days ago, the wait time was well over two hours, which annoyed Sandy no end. She made a beeline for the cutsey dragon this time, also, but was again super annoyed at the 140-minute posted wait times. We floated the option of one of us queuing while the others went off to explore, but it just seemed like it was out of reach. Whether this was the source of, or merely a contributing factor to, everyone seems ratty and snappy at each other. The blistering heat probably wasn’t helping.
We decided to break into pairs (divide and conquer) and go and get something to eat. It has been proven time and again on this trip that being fed is a successful tactic for warding off family squabbles. Sandy and I had earlier discussed this and had come up with a plan. I would take Joey back to the Meteor Café for some Fish and Chips, since that was a safe bet that Joey was already on board with, and Sandy would take Jae over to the Blue Dragon, where they served Asian dishes that would be more to Jae’s liking. Even back home, Jae prefers Asian cuisine much more. It often sets her apart, as neither Joey nor I are that keen. She’ll sometimes even visit an Asian restaurant on her own as a result. With these choices, everyone would be happy.
In the event, our Fish and Chips turned out to be quite mediocre at best. They overcooked the battered fish, leaving it a solid ball of crunchy batter, which spoiled the experience for me. However, it was food, and it served its purpose. Joey and I ate it all.
Once finished eating and drinking, we went over to find the girls. They had only just received their food, suggesting (perhaps with a little more enthusiasm than was needed) that Joey and I go elsewhere, like a ride on Stardust Racers.
I borrowed Jae’s walker and took Joey over to the death-defying rollercoaster again. Once again, I came out of the damned thing a nervous wreck.
The agreement was we’d all reconvene in Berk for the Untrainable Dragon show. Where Sandy was determined to meet Toothless, I was determined to experience both shows at Epic Universe. I managed the Le Cirque du Arcanus show a few days ago, but we missed out on the dragon show. This time, I was on a mission.
We were still ahead of time, so Joey and I went into the Express Pass Lane for Hiccup’s Winged Gliders roller coaster. We all enjoyed this a few days ago. I knew it would be tight, but there was still time to ride the coaster and make it to the show. When Joey and I reached the loading point, there was a 5-year-old child in the ready-to-depart carriage who was crying—clearly anxious about the ride. His father was trying to comfort him, but it wasn’t working. One of the cast members felt this needed dealing with, so she went over and chatted with the young man, no doubt doing her best to infuse him with some dragon bravery. It was all very touching, but also time-consuming at the same time. This delay threatened our plans to arrive at the show on time. I felt my anxiety rising. As if to add insult to injury, there was an announcement. There would be a delay with the rollercoaster operations. It seemed unrelated to the anxious child. The cast member handling us at the time apologised and offered us the option of waiting an unspecified amount of time. I explained our haste, and we left for the show instead.
While in the queue, a string of communication attempts, many of which were unsuccessful, had occurred between the girls and us—including a few missed calls. This resulted in a miscommunication about the exact time we were supposed to all meet up at the Untrained Dragon show building. Joey and I arrived slightly too late. The girls had already entered. As I had the walker, this meant two things. Firstly, I was exhausted and frustrated from trying to push the damned thing at high speeds through crowds of persistently stationary people. By the time I arrived, I was sweating profusely, agitated, and about to collapse. Secondly, it meant I was directed to the front row, where all the disabled guests were, meaning Joey and I weren’t seated together with Sandy and Jae. They were located towards the rear of the auditorium and on the opposite side. I did call Sandy and pointed out where we were at the front, but she couldn’t handle all the stairs through the crowd, so she chose to remain where she was. This immediately triggered a full-blown panic attack in Joey. In his mind, the only reason he had agreed to watch the show in the first place was that he would get to sit with Sandy. There was now a sudden and unpredictable change to those expectations, which he really struggled to cope with. I did my best to calm him, but he fought between enjoying the show and his inability to regulate his emotions throughout the entire performance.
The show itself was terrific. The entire rear of the stage was an enormous high-definition digital display. Dragons emerged from all corners of the auditorium, including a larger-than-life real Toothless bestrode by Hiccup, flying around back and forth over the audience’s heads. Dragons and villagers from Berk danced around the stage in tune to beating drums.
The musical stage show’s story was that there was an aggressive dragon who was deemed untrainable. Hiccup had attempted to tame him, but was unsuccessful, nearly giving up in the process. Through his persistence, Hiccup eventually stumbled on the explanation, which was that the untrainable dragon was protecting her egg. It was a moving storyline with an emotional conclusion. I loved it.
At times throughout the show, Joey was occasionally winning the internal battle between being entertained and disappointed concurrently. When he wasn’t reaching out for consoling cuddles, he was enthusiastically telling me which dragons were which and whose eggs were whose.
We exited through the shop, where Joey was expressing an interest in a How to Train Your Dragon cardigan. Although he has received many toys, he hasn’t purchased much in the way of T-shirts or other articles of clothing, so I let him buy the top. After some robust negotiations with me about whether he can borrow further into his December pocket money, he decided he also wanted a pair of hand-worn dragon claws. Conscious of the emotional turmoil that had just played out, I decided to be lenient.
Once outside, and the natural high from the show’s entertainment waned, the disappointment within Joey about the seating arrangements overwhelmed him again. He kept trying to articulate to Sandy how it was her fault for going into the auditorium too soon. Joey can be pretty stubborn (I wonder who he gets that from) and sometimes just has to have the last word. Sandy was starting to lose it, crumbling under the weight of Joey’s unfair and empathy-less onslaught. This was a train wreck playing out before my eyes, so I tried to diffuse the tension by claiming the blame. As if to also witness the same train crash coming, Jae also stepped in and helped to manage Joey by engaging with him. She took him off to go and ride Stardust Racer again, leaving Sandy and me to sit and have a much-needed breather.
Sandy and I eventually went over to do Constellation Carousel in the centre of Celestial Park. It’s a kiddie ride, but a beautifully designed one at that—well worth the effort to experience at least once. I got some lovely photos and a video of us riding around on one of the two-seater dragons. We didn’t say much throughout the ride. I think we were just happy for a quiet moment together.
Jae was now heading towards The Wizarding World of Harry Potter – Ministry of Magic, where multiple cups of butterbeer had her name written on them already. At Sandy’s ‘suggestion’, I went over to pay for it. Somehow, I managed to commit to buying a butterbeer for Jae whenever she wants one. At least, that’s how she remembers it, often with a sarcastic glint in her eye. Jae and I have this unspoken rule between us. She tells me what she wants from me, and I deliver. There’s always an undercurrent of humour in these micro-interactions between us. Secretly, it pleases me to see her developing the ability to coax out of me what she needs— even if it’s dressed up as humour. In the meantime, Sandy parked herself at the fountains between the Helios Hotel and Constellation Carousel. Dusk was starting to set in, and the water fountains were dancing, making for a magical and relaxing atmosphere.
Jae’s enthusiasm for butterbeer had apparently overtaken her patience to wait for me to arrive and pay. When I approached the butterbeer cart, she was already licking the white foam from her top lip, butterbeer in hand and a warm, contented look on her face—like she’s wrapped in a warm blanket. I was trying to call her on the way there. Apparently, she had been trying to tap and pay, but my incoming calls kept aborting the payment attempts.
Jae had done a stellar job at lifting Joey’s spirits, once again showing her talent for reading emotions and knowing exactly how to interpret and respond to them. He was now bouncing up and down and in a good mood again. Looking to spend the last of his December pocket money, he now wanted permission to buy a first-generation wizarding wand to add to his collection. At $60 a piece, these things are not cheap—especially when you consider what they really are: sticks. When I was a kid, wands were called sticks, and you found them in parks and bushes.
Somewhat reluctantly, and with the firm understanding that we are spending Joey’s pocket money, and not Dad’s, Joey selected a wand from the crowded and rather ornate wand shop that he was hoping for. While keeping a resigned-looking face and maintaining that telling sort of eye contact with the young lady behind the counter—the kind that says, ‘I know you understand my pain’— I put the beautiful triangular-shaped boxed wand onto the surface before her with slightly more of a thud than was strictly necessary, declaring, “One ‘stick’, please!” She looked me directly in the eye, tilted her head slightly, as though about to whisper something, and with a slight smile, said, “Would you like your ‘stick’ customised?”
I looked quizzically back at her, “Customised?”
“Yes, sir. You can have your ‘stick’ engraved with a name. It’s just $25.”
Before the thought of how inventive the leeches are at finding ever-more ways to part unsuspecting tourists like me from our money could finish rushing through my head, Joey interjected with, “No, I just want it as it is.” Phew, that was another $25 bullet dodged.
Just as I was reconciling the loss of the $60 for the wand against the thought it could at least have been worse had Joey wanted the engraving, Jae pointed out she had finished her butterbeer…and wanted me to buy her another.
The three of us walked over to the fountains, wand and half-drunken butterbeer in hands. We found Sandy sitting there relaxing. We were now energised enough to take on Darkmoor together, so we set off in that direction.
Despite being less crowded in Celestial Park throughout the day, the themed areas, such as Darkmoor, were significantly busier. It was nearly dark now, and the entire park came to life at night with beautiful lighting effects wherever you looked.
Between the lighting, background audio, and physical effects, such as mist, walking through Darkmoor felt ominous and dark, as intended by design. Joey’s anxieties were starting to reassert, and he was beginning to struggle again. With it being so busy, the whole place felt chaotic and unpredictable. He wasn’t coping very well. Jae was still doing a good job helping him. We agreed this would be the last themed area we would attempt. The only one left was Super Nintendo World, but that would have been too much to handle, given all the sensory overload.
I was keen for Jae to enjoy Darkmoor, being more attuned to her personality. I also wanted Sandy to experience the village and the rides, since she had missed out on them the last time. On balance, although this was always going to be a struggle for Joey, his was not the only consideration at the moment.
The queue for Monsters Unchained wasn’t long, and we were quickly through most of the line. I had the walker with me at the time (it switches mostly between Jae and me). When we reached a certain point, a cast member took the walker from me, and I was directed down a corridor. The others all followed me. Sandy still had one of the backpacks, which wasn’t permitted, so we all had to double back to leave it with the walker, frustrating everyone in the process. By now, even a few steps of diversion were enough to trigger sighs of exasperation. We were clearly all tired by now. I copped flak from the others for ‘racing ahead’, but I took it on the chin. I wasn’t in the wrong, as I was following instructions, but I admitted fault to help us all move past that bit of frustration.
The ride was excellent—better than I remembered from a few days ago. I paid more attention this time to the storyline, rather than just the physical sets and animatronics.
Joey was the first off the ride. He was pretty overwhelmed and wanted to get out of the building. We passed through the exit shop, where he found a quiet corner and sat facing it to self-regulate.
Jae went and spoke to him, managing to convince him to join us on the very last ride of the day, which would be the Curse of the Werewolf ride.
While in the queue, I was trying to play the part of a human shield so that Joey wouldn’t be freaked out by all the restless kids running back and forth. Jae was still doing wonders, keeping him grounded and chatting.
Everyone really enjoyed the Werewolf rollercoaster—including Joey. It was time to go, but Sandy was still holding out hope for the Toothless meet and greet. Frustratingly, the app wasn’t displaying any wait times, so Sandy found a nearby concierge desk to inquire. It was 45 minutes. Sandy felt that it was doable. She said she was heading over there, but that we could go back to the car if we wanted to. This was clearly important to her. I think we all realised that and made our way back to Berk with her. I initially had misgivings as to what this might do to Joey’s disposition. The last thing we needed now was another outburst between Joey and Sandy. I was pleasantly surprised when it became evident he was also keen on meeting Toothless in person.
When we arrived, it was just Toothless. Earlier in the day, there were two dragons in the meet and greet area, but now there was just the one. This might have been because there were fewer people now. Although the sign indicated 45 minutes, it took less than 10 minutes before reaching the head of the line.
The meet and greet was everything Sandy had hoped for. She and both kids, judging by their interactions and reactions, loved every moment of it. Another family member’s dream had come true, and all was well in the universe. Although we hadn’t purchased a photo package with Universal (it was included with the Disney ticket), the official photographer was on hand to take some good shots. What I really liked was that there was another cast member on hand to take dozens of photos from our mobile phones, so we got some lovely images regardless.
Notwithstanding the dozens of photos taken with our various mobile phones, Sandy still stopped at the photo kiosk to see what the official images looked like. They looked terrific, so Sandy decided she must have them. To cut a long story short, this meant Sandy would purchase the one-day photo package for $110. It meant we were entitled to ride photos as well as photos from any of the official photographers dotted around the park, although we felt there were fewer of these compared to the Disney parks. Alas, we were literally now on our way back to the car, so we wouldn’t benefit from any new photos to be taken. There was also no way to retrieve ride photos from earlier in the day. To collect those, you had to scan your card at the ride photo kiosk immediately after completing the ride. Essentially, it meant these eight official digital photos from the meet and greet cost me nearly $14 each. Ouch! However, since this was making Sandy’s dream come true, the cost didn’t matter. I held my tongue and said nothing. I knew when to shut my mouth (I typically don’t).
We piled back into the car and left Epic Universe for the last time. We were all exhausted, and Joey’s bucket, in particular, was full and overflowing. While Sandy, Jae and I decided to stop at our favourite Waffle House, Joey insisted on being dropped off at home. He needed to find refuge back in his bubble. After picking up some provisions, we made it home, where we saw Joey bouncing up and down with enthusiasm, playing with his new acquisitions. He had successfully returned to normality once more.
Epic Universe was, once again, a big success. As has so often been the case on this holiday, our collective family enjoyment came loaded with the baggage of irritability, frustration and the ever-present searching for how to make the best of a situation. Sometimes that means spending time together, but it also means we sometimes have to spend time apart—just enough to give ourselves the time and space to recover, regroup and reinvigorate. Ultimately, despite all the trip hazards along the way, we found peace among the chaos and turmoil. Once again, success is judged as much by the fact we survived as it is by the enjoyment we found along the way.