No, not the act of getting tired of Disney, but the actual drive to continue wandering the parks despite your feet or legs or eyes complaining otherwise.

Fatigue is the number one cause of most family meltdowns, which I took great glee in watching. I spied a mother try unsuccessfully keep her son standing still beside his baby sister in a stroller, 4 feet from her as she ordered drinks for them all. The son kept on making belly farts on his sister to which she would waffle between screams of delight and dissatisfaction. Screams, nonetheless. Mother would turn and ask the son to stop while fishing round for money in her purse. More belly farts, more screams, more frustrated mom. Then the dreaded “public torso shake” happened: grip both arms of the child and shake while the parent… Accentuates. Their. Point. Through. Clenched. Teeth.  All the while the poor child’s brain was being scrambled like it was in a Magic Bullet. The poor kid was  wrenched away from the stroller and quizzed as to why he couldn’t just stay still for two god damned minutes? Mom’s fatigue got the best of her.

When kids hit that wall, they either crash outright (see Transportation post and the last bus back to the resort), or take on the characteristics of a 1940s air raid siren in heat. “Whhhyyyyyyyy can’t weeeeee goooooo back to the Whiiiiinieeee The Poooooooh Riiiiiiide?” I swear they become a parody of themselves the longer they do this. Shame on the parents who have learned to ignore this type of noise pollution… people like me don’t live with this kind of behaviour and your ignorance of it is jangling my nerves.

When two adults crash, they either melt down like a Fox reality TV show or go introvert and just stare off into the silent distance. SharkBoy and I instinctively know when we’re at this point: we look at each other and say: “Done.” Then make our way back to our hotel room to pack to go home. Though next time I think we need to factor in rest points during the day. Lunches and breaks sort of got swept aside for wait times for rides or mad dashes to opposite ends of parks to meet FastPass times.

I liken a Disney trip to sex. You need stanima and drive and hope to god you don’t get your Disney Miracle moment too soon in the vacation or you’ll be wandering around looking for another miracle to happen again – and may be sorrily dissapointed when it doesn’t happen. Or you can have several small miracles laid out over the week, which we did: the weather was good, the ride waits weren’t that long, the food was fantastic, way-laid plans were meneded on the fly for equally good experiences… no complaints at all, really.