I love Disney. There I said it. I know it’s not cool or in keeping with the rock-star lifestyle, but around here, we’re big fans of Walt Disney World. Before E arrived, we liked to head to Epcot for the Food and Wine Festival or to Magic Kingdom during the holidays, but we probably went three, four times a year at most. But it was a great perk about living in the Orlando area.

But once she arrived, it was on like Donkey Kong. By the time she was 1, we started getting annual passes. We figured, where else can we eat at some really good restaurants (Todd English’s Bluezoo comes quickly to mind) and be completely accepted with a baby? And in those days when I was mostly home by myself all day every day with her, heading out just to stroll around the parks in the evenings or on the weekends was a wonderful way to get an always interesting change of scenery. Plus, don’t even get me started on the fabulous nursing rooms and baby centers at all four parks.

So, yeah, we’re big fans. Here we are on E’s first trip to Epcot, when she was just 7 months old:

She looks impressed, no?

Over the past two years, we’ve been countless times. And our trips to Disney have evolved from doing whatever Mom and Dad wanted, while occasionally throwing a bone to the tot (you want to go on a ride? Well let’s see which one has no line. The Wheel of Progress it is!) to this weekend’s trip, our first since our seasonal blackout period ended. This time, E demanded politely requested that we go see Mickey and Hot Dog (her name for Goofy. You know, because of the Hot Dog song. We’re still not sure how he’s the only one to get that honor).

So, this weekend, we broke our no-line policy and got into line. And waited. And waited. To be honest, we were also waiting out a sudden and torrential downpour, so it wasn’t all wasted time. But all that waiting sure paid off with shots like this …

… and this:

But finally, it was time for her to run without any abandon into the arms of her absolute favorite, Hot Dog:

Best friends forever

Here’s just one of the things I love about Disney. Goofy heard her calling him “Hot Dog” and looked over at us. I told him it was because of the Hot Dog song. He immediately started doing the dance moves that Goofy does at the end of the “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse” cartoon. That’s dedication, and it created a moment of pure joy and excitement for our little one.

So it might not be cool, but I don’t care. We’re mad about the Mouse. Now I just have to figure out how long I can get away with telling her Toy Story Mania is constantly closed.