Kingwold vacation, part 9

This is your day to rejoice as the King family vacation posts are coming to an end. I will bore you no more. But first, we must reminisce about the end of our story.

As you probably can guess, since Disney is Disney, no detail is left untouched, no matter how small. Every need, every want, is taken care of, always. Every person you meet has a smile, a helpful hand, or whatever you need for the moment.  The problem is that the good vibes end abruptly as you descend the stairway to reality, or rather, bureaucracy - the dreaded customs room.  They really should have signs as you descend -

BEWARE!

Smiles forbidden.

You are now leaving the land of Happy and entering the domain of Grumpy.

It was a world of laughter but here begins the world of tears.

You must stop having a good time.

Now.

We silently wound through the queue, dread in our hearts, fear in our minds, until we got to the last two people before the customs booth. John and several of the children were told to move on to the space behind the booth while I was stopped with the rest of the children behind me. And then ensued the following conversation:

Ma'am, you need to wait here.

Excuse me, shouldn't families enter customs together?

Yes. Are you with your family?

No, sir, you sent them on ahead.

You're with them?

Yes, we are.

You're all the same family?

Yes.

But only immediate families go through customs together.

We are immediate family. That's my husband and those are my children.

Who is with you here?

The rest of my children.  We need to be with that man up there, the one with the red face who is yelling for me to join him because we can't go through customs if we're not all together.

But you can only go with the people on your customs declaration form.

We are on the same form. We are one family.

You're one family?

Well, we were when we came in here but if you look at my husband you'll see that he's extremely upset that I am not obeying his orders to join him so we may not be one family much longer.

Oh, then you may go ahead, ma'am.

Thank you, sir.

I like to believe he thought I looked too normal to be mother to so many.

Welcome Home, Kids!