Yes, I went to Disneyland Paris. And, for once, I disengaged my cynicism. This doesn’t happen very often so, you know, enjoy it while it lasts. Normal service is bound to resume shortly.

It’s not the first time I’ve been: I went with my parents a veryveryvery long time ago, and Other Half and I took Small Boy there just before his first birthday. That trip wasn’t really for him as he was far too little to know what the hell was going on–it was for us–but this time, he was completely into it. And when I say “it”, I mean “everything”.

So we watched parades, we did shooting galleries, we gave Mickey Mouse a hug. We flew magic carpets and magic pirate ships, blew up the Death Star (Small Boy loves Star Tours almost as much as I do) and crossed rickety rope-bridges. We rode a runaway train and joined Buzz Lightyear in the battle against the evil Emperor Zurg (3 times) and stood watching the snow falling on Main Street USA (every half hour, on the quarter hour).

Also: I got to have a little moment with an Armageddon Armadillo. It was intense.

I have few flaws, but one of them is my deep, all-encompassing love for Armageddon.

I know. I can’t help it. When Colonel Willie Sharp comes up to Grace at the end and asks to shake her hand… I’m in pieces. Every. Single. Time.

And yes, that is a House Lannister shirt I’m wearing. Cut me and I suspect I would bleed geek.

Anyway. Moving on.

Apart from the Armadillo, there was something else I had my eye on, which wouldn’t fit in the suitcase either…

At least, that’s what Other Half said. My suggestion that we buy a bigger suitcase didn’t go down so well…