The story of a man and a mouse: How Brad is intentionally trying to ruin my up-coming Disney vacation

I gritted my teeth in frustration as I watched Brad laboriously click each link as we began customizing our up-coming vacation to the happiest place on earth. Not only did he have to read ALL the information on each page, he also waited until the animated circle-timer-thingy finished before clicking on. I mentally screamed, the echo reverberating off the Grand Canyon walls of my brain.

Guiding him to the restaurant listings, I suggested a particular place to make a reservation. "Do you plan on being in that park then," Brad asked. Quelling the urge to say "duh" during this quality-time together moment, I nodded, tilting my head inquisitively and widening my eyes in an adorable fashion. Brad said later that he had thought I'd needed to use the restroom. "Why do you ask," I said. "Well," he responded, "that's not one of the parks that we most frequent so I was just surprised that you'd choose a restaurant there." I sighed softly. Brad said later that it sounded like a steam engine pulling into the station. When did he get so dramatic? "Let me show you the restaurant," I said, nonchalantly reaching for the mouse. Before my hand could grasp the life-line of infinite on-line power (and no, that wasn't a sexual innuendo), Brad elbowed me out of the way and clicked the picture. We sat for what seemed like hours before the animated circle-timer-thingy finished so Brad could expand the "click here to read more" link.

"Look," I exclaimed, "the restaurant booths are replicas of classic convertibles situated at a drive-in theatre!" Brad nodded, furrowing his brow in concentration. I wondered if he had a head-ache. "What sort of food do they serve," he wondered callously. I stared at him. Didn't he see the picture? I pointed at it and repeated the description slowly, "Class-ic con-vert-i-bles...drive-in the-a-ter." "So you want to make reservations at the one park that we really don't go to, to eat who-knows-what kind of food, at a restaurant that is set up just like the restaurant where we eat on a weekly basis all summer long?" What is his problem? Is he intentionally trying to ruin my...I mean, our...vacation? I decided to wait to mention replacing one of our evening meals with a dessert buffet. Besides, it would take hours to navigate over to that link on the computer with Brad manning the mouse.