This morning I'm heading to the Magic Kingdom in Orlando with my family. We will be getting up at an ungodly hour to beat the lines, but I don't mind.
The first time I went to Disney World (that I can remember), I was fifteen. It was the year my Mom passed away, and my Dad spoiled us rotton that year at Christmas in an effort to distract us. I was completely blown away by the park. Everything about it was a million times better than any theme park I had been to before. I abandoned my too-cool-for-school teenager attitude and had a blast meeting Lilo & Stitch, kicking my brother's butts on the Buzz Lightyear ride, and gasping at the Philharmagic. There really is something magical about DisneyWorld. While I never stopped wishing my Mom was there, I have the best memories of being with my family on that trip.
Nine years later, I know the park will have changed, and so have I. Part of me worries that going back at 24 will take away some of the specialness of that first trip. I hope that I can still feel some of the magic I felt back then.
Even if I don't, that in no way will stop me from behaving like a 5 year old, I'm sure.