The term "rope-drop" has become a weirdly ubiquitous phrase in our family. I didn't realize how commonplace it was until this past summer when we were at a waterpark and Teddy suggested we rope-drop the lazy river ride. If you've never heard the phrase before, it's essentially a Disney thing where you arrive at the park before it opens so you can march directly to your ride of your choice once the staff drops the rope. You typically target the most popular ride, and by rope-dropping, you have a 15 minute wait for the ride instead of a 2 hour wait if you get there later in the day. Sarah was a pro at this for our first Disney visit, and has perfected the art over subsequent trips. We've rope-dropped Seven Dwarves Mine Train, Radiator Springs Racers, Rise of the Resistance, Test Track, Web Slingers, Big Thunder Mountain - I won't attempt to do the math, but I can safely say she's saved us 25 hours of waiting with this skill (not counting subsequent park
Earlier this year, Sarah and I had a rare experience: a long car ride without the kids. It was just the two of us in the car for over four hours – with no kids shows playing in the background, no interruptions, no little ears nearby. And we spent four hours just talking about us. I don't quite remember how it started, but it became this moment-by-moment retelling of our relationship from the very start – from back in high school as we were just becoming friends. For decades she has been my favourite person in the world, my best friend, the heart of all my best memories, and you'd think there wasn't much more we could learn about our story. But maybe through complete honestly, new perspectives earned over time, and Sarah's still shockingly good memory for details, we both learned things we didn't know. When we got home, I pulled out a box of old letters and it became this archeological dig. The words I’d written, I'll admit, were shockingly juvenile at time