When I got married, my idea of the perfect honeymoon was to go on a road trip with my husband. Stay in a different city each night, drive with the windows open, and listen to loud music. I thought of it as kind of a farewell to teenagehood. After all, I was only 19. It would have been cool, except … we had no money. My hubby made the best of what we did have, which really wasn’t a lot, so the road trip was really more like overnight at a campground within a reasonable distance from our hometowns.
So, I have always yearned for a proper honeymoon.
For years, I sat around and wondered what I would have liked to do for my honeymoon if I ever got a second chance. As the years passed my brain would linger on the idea of going to Ireland if the money was good, Prince Edward Island if the money were a little less good, or Alaska to go whale watching in the summer. So, whenever anyone would tell me they were getting married, I would always ask them where they were honeymooning. Do you want to know what has been the most popular answer hands down? Not Italy. Not London. Not Hawaii. Disneyland.
I am baffled.
Seriously, I know close to ten couples who decided to honeymoon in Disneyland. And I don’t get it. I mean … I really don’t get it. I can’t figure out the appeal for grown-ups who have no children who are looking for a romantic getaway. If anyone knows – please explain it to me. Because when I want to be romanced, I’m a grown-up woman who cannot possibly be seduced by the blue Disney castle of my childhood. Remove my responsibilities for a while (this applied even before I had children), let me sleep in and if I can possibly be taken somewhere vaguely exotic – I’m putty in your hands. So, why do these couples want Mickey ears? Are they some sort of aphrodisiac and no one told me? Do men look irrationally adorable in Mickey ears? Everyone always comes back with loads of Disney swag. Which I don’t get either.
I just want to sleep, see a beautiful view, eat a crab, be given a sparkly present, told that I’m beautiful and … standing in line to get swirled around like tea in an oversized teacup doesn’t sound like an enjoyable part of the program. Blah, I’m hopeless. I’ll probably never get it.