MWA - Stowaways to Disneyland

It was fall of 1992, and the plans for a trip to Disneyland were set months in advance. A week before the trip, Mike was unexpectedly unemployed. We struggled with the decision to go on the trip or not, deciding we were going to go no matter what. We kept our plans to take a Disneyland vacation a secret from our children, so as not to overexcite them; however, it turned out to be a study in trust.

Whitney was eight, and Eric was nine years old. Both children were old enough to get overly excited and not sleep before a trip to Disneyland if I had told them of the plans. Before I sent the children to bed, I started the deception. “We will be picking up Uncle Steve at the airport tonight. We will be taking you with us.” Neither trusting child found that unusual because we had done the same in the past.

Mike and I had surreptitiously packed the suitcases and loaded the car after the children were soundly asleep. When it was time to go to the airport, each of us woke up a sleeping child, quietly dressed them, and tucked them into the car to fall back asleep. Mike and I were grinning because the plan to keep them calm was working so well. At the airport, Mike checked us onto our flight. The sleepy children never saw the tickets or the luggage. We went to our gate and “waited” for Uncle Steve. We were amazed they had not caught on, and we began to have fun with the idea of just how far could we go with not telling these kids of our plans. I heard our row number called, and we needed to board. I suggested we go onto the airplane to see if Uncle Steve was still on-board. Those two good little kids just followed me like ducks in a row. When Uncle Steve was not on board, Mike suggested we take a seat and wait awhile. Until now, these words and actions elicited no response from my otherwise inquisitive children. I must say however, as the plane started to roll away from the terminal both, children started to realize something was strange.

What I had not considered was the influence my reading aloud to them would have. At home, we had just finished the book Treasure Island, the classic pirate tale of treasure and stowaways. In the book, the pirates made the stowaways walk the plank and jump into the sure death of the open ocean.

Whitney began to fuss and cry. “They will catch us, we are stowaways, and they’ll throw us off the plane.”

Eric, much more pragmatic, questioned, “What will happen to us if we are caught without tickets?”

Mike and I grinning thought the game was up, but continued to play telling them, “If they haven’t noticed us already they probably won’t. Don’t worry; they do not toss people off of planes in mid-flight.”

I reminded the children that walking the plank was not an option in today’s world. That settled the kids down somewhat but they kept asking questions: “How will we get home,” “How much will it cost to get home,” and “You can have all my money.” I tried to appeal to the trusting nature of the concerned children; consequently, I told them that we would be fine, it would all work out, we were their parents, and we would take care of them. I tried to direct their concerns away from the seeming crisis and toward the adventure of the unknown. The desire to tell the children of the hoax was always present, but Mike was a more dedicated tease than I was, and he kept telling me to wait just a bit more.

When the plane started down over L.A. and the kids spotted palm trees, they again began to say things like, “This isn’t Washington,” and “We are a long way from home.”

“Dad will rent a car, and we will drive home.” I encouraged the children not to worry.

Mike collected the bags, the pre-arranged rental car, and he met us at the door. We loaded the now curious children into the tiny budget car. Before we reached our destination, we decided to stop for breakfast at a Denny’s. After we had eaten, Mike teasingly told the children that they would have to do dishes to pay for breakfast.

Whitney burst into tears, and wailed, “I don’t want to do dishes.” She was inconsolable.

I had to gather up the crying child and tell her several times, “Dad will pay for breakfast, and you will not have to do any dishes.” Only after we left the restaurant did she calm down.

Eric, my little hero, would have gone in to wash dishes if it would help us out; however, no one was required to do dishes.

As we passed the entrance to Disneyland, I asked the kids, “Shall we go to Disneyland while we are here?” Both sets of eyes grew much bigger at the possibility of the adventure followed by their eager acquiescence.

When we arrived at the hotel, Mike went in to see “if they had any rooms available,” or so we told the children. It was when we got to our reserved room, that I could no longer stand keeping the secret; although, I was amazed they had trusted us so far. I told them of all the trickery and why. We wanted them well rested because they would get less sleep while we were here at Disneyland. “Even though Dad was out of a job, it was something we wanted to do.” It took a bit of convincing, but you should have seen their faces at the Disney Park that day. They were so amazed, or more likely in shock. They enjoyed every minute of the next five days. I would not suggest that you lie to your children, or keep a secret so long. This adventure was a study in trust that children have for their parents that was ultimately very revealing to me. Do not abuse that trust, but do have fun!