As our Disney annual passes expire at the end of the year, we decided to brave the day-after-Thanksgiving crowds and hit the Magic Kingdom last night. There's just something so special about that place during the holidays, especially at night when there's a little chill in the air and your five-year-old son is full of spirit and energy.

He decided that he's ready for the Mountain rides. He's already experienced the borderline-racially-insensitive Splash Mountain with a hearty "zip-a-dee-doo-dah", and last night was his first voyage to the Mountains of Space and Big Thunder. The choo-choo-themed roller coaster was first up. No screaming, no tears, no problems other than a 40-minute wait time (which was posted as a 70-minute wait so I'm not complaining). We were undaunted by the posted 40-minute wait time of Space Mountain and hit that next. Again, nothing but thrills. This kid is definitely turning into a boy right before my eyes.

The biggest scare/thrill of the day was found on the tram back to the parking lot (Grumpy Row 113). Right as the tram driver sounded the "all clear" horn twice, our stroller decided to take a leap from the tram to the parking lot. I knew the tram was about to take off and that I had one chance to grab that sucker before I turned into loser-Dad ("excuse me, my stroller was left behind..."). I balanced with one foot on the tram and one on the pavement as I felt the tram take off and heard the surrounding tourists yell "WAAAAAIT" to the driver. In true Indiana Jones-like fashion, I clutched the stroller handle with one hand and pulled myself back into the tram with the other as my wife and son looked on in horror/amazement.

It certainly wasn't worth dying over, but I definitely didn't want to wait for the tram to stop before going back to retrieve that darned stroller. Good times.