The Five Stages of Grief at Legoland

4 years ago
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It can’t be this crowded. Why is it so crowded? It’s a Monday morning at 10am and it’s supposed to rain today. Didn’t anybody check the forecast and think to themselves, "Today is not a good day to go to Legoland." I know I checked the forecast and thought to myself, “Hey, it’s a Monday, it's supposed to rain today and lightning. That ought to scare the tourists off. Let's head to Legoland and ride some really tall metal roller coasters!" Okay, okay. Calm down. The park is really large. It has dozens of rides, hundreds of employees. It can accommodate all these millions of people no problem. In fact, I bet Legoland is so big that it will probably feel like we have the park all to ourselves. We are going to have an amazing day.



It’s so crowded I can’t even walk and if someone hits me with a rent-a-stroller one more time, I swear, I'm going to go Mr. Business on this whole place. Seriously, why does Legoland let so many people in?They should stop letting people in at a certain point. They should just say, “I’m sorry, our park is full. You’ll have to come back another day. We don’t want to overcrowd the park because then the people that paid hundreds of dollars to enter the park would have a miserable time and that just ain’t Lego.”

And what’s the deal with this Chima ride? Sure, it warned us that we might get wet, but I’m completely soaked. It’s like an elephant puked up the entire contents of a river on me. What’s so fun about that? What’s so thrilling about a machine dumping a barrel of water on an innocent mom with an open purse? And to make matters worse during this ride, I noticed another mom gleefully squirting me with a water gun from the sidelines and getting me even me more soaked. Excuse me? What happened to an unspoken mom code? I swear, if I see that woman at the churro line, I’m going to kick her in the kneecaps and tell her how much I hate her jean Bermuda shorts.



Okay, Legoland gods, if you can hear me I promise I’ll do anything if you make this line move faster. I’ve been holding a fifty pound four-year-old for an hour now. My other two kids are hitting each other and causing a scene and I have completely run out of snacks. I just ate my Burt's Bees chapstick to stay alive. If the Earth could swallow up the seventy-five people in front of me so we can get on this ride, I’ll swear my allegiance to Legoland forever… or to Satan… or to the Satanic person who created this never ending line. I’m also willing to sell my body at this point to make the line move faster. Full disclosure: I’ve had three kids, but with proper mood lighting, it looks like I’ve only had two.



I want it to be over. Not just our day at Legoland, but my life. If the Empire State Building in Mini Land was any bigger, I'd jump off of it.

NEXT: {FINE.} -->


I accept the fact that even though the day held many horrors, we ended up having a really good time. I also accept the fact that we’ll be back next year... but maybe on a Tuesday. It might not be that crowded on a Tuesday.