Southern Mothers

It's very interesting to be a solo traveller in a place like Disney World. You can be such a smug, opinionated observer when you have no one tugging at your shorts. My advice for parents-to-be: forget about this place until the youngest child is at least five. I have seen very few happy toddlers here. It's simply too hot, too crowded, and there is far too much waiting around between each magical moment to appease many of the under-four set.

Let me tell you one thing I know for sure. Southern mamas are a force to be reckoned with. If you, or someone you love is a southern mama, please know you have my utmost respect and I stand in awe of you. But dang, you are fun to watch in full battle mode. You can bark orders at your husband, flash your uber-white toothy smile at the waiter as he brings you a sippy cup on demand, and give your two year old the evil eye without missing a beat.

You. Love. Your. Monograms. On this trip alone, I have seen children, backpacks, spit-up rags and even a few strollers monogrammed to the nines. You also love names, I'll give you that. Many of you use cities for names. This week alone, I have heard the following names shouted in a sugar sweet, but most threatening voice: Dallas, Savannah, several Austins, Jackson, and even Orlando. I also love that people both revere you, laugh at you quick wit, and fear you, all at the same time. It's an amazing feat.