the age of not believing

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Lucky for me I have not yet reached this particular age when one stops believing.... Angela Lansbury scared me straight at the age of four when I watched Bedknobs and Broomsticks for the first time. In fact, that movie was on such a frequent screening schedule that I broke the VHS. 

Against Jash's wishes, we made the trek to Disneyland Paris solely for my enjoyment. He has a strong dislike for tourists, children, and fast rides. If I didn't know his age, I would suspect that he was a very youthful looking crotchety old man. His favourite part of the day (besides the Peter Pan ride, which he later admitted) was informing me of any wronging that happened to him: aka whenever a child coughed on his hand or stepped on his foot. 

 Disney has a giant part of my heart so I like to make the pilgrimage to a park at least once a year if I can; when I am there, it's the closest I can get to feeling like that little girl dying for a brass bed so it would take me straight to Portabello Road or under the sea (re: Bedknobs and Broomsticks). 

Honestly, who can tell me they don't watch the classics when everything is going totally wrong and come out feeling totally awesome? Maybe I'm way off base..... oh well.... maybe you need more of this:



Love Miss Sandy



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