"We're all just trash waiting to get thrown away."
-Lotso, Toy Story 3
The moon seemed to mock me as it took its place in the autumn sky. It was full, round, and grinning from one side to the other. I could almost hear the beams of light carry the tune.
"Mickey," it says- my all too famous name.
My dad used to tell me stories that when you saw the moon you could sometimes see Mickey Mouse appear to be walking on it. As a small child I made a habit of watching Mickey go from a sliver of a Cheshire Cat's smile to an enchanting object so much more powerful than a sphere. I adored the thought of leaving your footsteps on the moon; until I realized very seldom do people make them.
The moon stood witness to all of my family's momentous occasions; unfortunately, so did the adventurous mouse that so called walked upon it. It came unappreciated by some, most notably, me, but by others the Disney company was welcomed with open arms. After years of applying and replying for a position in park Imagineering, my father was finally accepted. It was a dream come true.
The business trips were seldom at first, then often, and suddenly my dad was gone more than he was home. It wasn't hard for a girl to notice how much further the checks on her calendar had become: one week, two weeks, three? I got used to it I suppose, but don't worry, the job had it's benefits too. My mom, father, and I went to Disneyland and Disney World often- sometimes twice, even three times a year.
I began to love Disney. No, I became obsessed with it. Disney was the only thing that brought my family together, whether that be Disney vacations or my dad's homecoming gifts that always featured a different Disney character. Our entire home was transformed into a Disney warehouse it would seem, every year a new room would take on a different story of Walt Disney's imagination. Even my brother's nursery was decorated Mickey and Friends.
It wasn't long before my entire life revolved around Disney. Disney World's prime season, Disney's business conventions, the opening of new Disney parks, the latest Disney stock crises- the list could go on. In whatever case, with every new project seemed to equal a new promotion for my dad; more opportunity, more business, more money.
Life was no longer mom, dad, and baby Eric for me. We had been replaced, a family for a Disney one. The strangest thing is that no one but me seemed to notice. My mom missed my father more than anything in the world, but she liked having to play the double role, too. When my father returns it's as if nothing has changed. She is his wife and he her prince charming. They are madly in love- no matter how far apart they will be tomorrow. As for my brother, well, he's never known anything but Disney. He's young yet. He still has time.
Me, I am sixteen now and Disney has long been scratched out in my mind as magical. I was seven, maybe eight when I stopped praising Disney for my father's return and began blaming it for his absence.
The light that loomed before me stood as a reminder that in the morning this moon would disappear. Moon Mickey will be gone and the greedy, yet charismatic Mickey Mouse will return. Another Disney World Vacation awaits the Porter family.
It would be all too much to blame the moon for this. But the Mouse has blood on his hands and I charge him guilty.