My Adrenaline Junkies!

On Monday we went to Disneyland for Benji's 5th Birthday.

We have made it our family tradition. When you turn 5, no party, just a fun trip to Anaheim. This was our second trip ever.

Last time Theo was 5, so Benji was only 2 1/2. We pushed Benji around in a stroller, and Theo skipped around bewitched. We headed to Toontown (the plasticky, cutesy park with no trees or flowers) and stayed there too long. Even "It's a Small World" was closed.

This time was different.

We never even made it to Toontown. And my boys were fearless. We started with the Pirates of the Caribbean. When the boat swoops down a mountain of water in the dark Benji whooped for joy. When we got off he wanted to do it again.

When we went in the Haunted Mansion, and the ghosts hitched a ride in our "doom" buggy Benji wanted to do that again.

In the afternoon, after Benji had picked about 16 rides, everyone else got to pick a few. I picked the Matterhorn, which I remembered as the best ride of my life when I went to Disneyland at 11. Benji was tall enough, but I still felt a little guilty strapping him into the bobsled. What if I left him with lifelong nightmares? But, if he was terrified, I would hold him, snuggle him, and we would proceed to Toontown and "It's a Small World."

Boy, was I wrong!

When the ride ended--after screaming by fluourescent crystals and hairy yetis and riding through water falls and whipping up and down--the boys jumped out of the bobsled, kicked up their heels and started dancing, and yelled, "Again! Again!" We rode again. Then, to get them off the Matterhorn, we lured them to the Run-Away Train--longer, wilder, swoopier.

They finished that one and danced out again.

I was startled. They are true adrenaline junkies. It alters them. Shifts their mood. Makes them want to dance. Like me.

Jonathan and I marveled.

Jonathan looked at me.

"That is not from my side of the family," he said.