Kinda Hot in These Queen Mary's

Ashton is offically King of the Woooooooorld! (Its funny when you make kids do stuff.)

So, the cutest child ever (although his sister is really giving him a run for his money with that title) got it into his brain that he NEEDED to go to the Queen Mary. "Auntie, I HAVE to go to the Mary Boat TODAY. Its important!" Nevermind that he really had no idea what The Queen Mary even was, and was SORELY disappointed when we got there and found out that it doesnt actually move. But Uncle Greg and I obliged him and wandered all the decks trying to make it seem interesting. "Oooohhh Ashton look, a lubricating steam valve!" He enjoyed himself for the most part, but any time we spend with this kid is worth way more than the $24.50 (!) it cost us to traverse that dilapidated nonsense. I love my boy, thats all that matters.

On a more personal note: I actually HATE large ships, and in particular I hate the undercarriages of them even more. One of my biggest fears is the underside of large vessels like this, particularly the humongous propellers. Dont ask me how this fear materialized because I dont know, I wish I had some sort of epic tale about getting sucked under a glass bottom boat and narrowly escaping death, but I got nothing other than to say that Titanic actually scared the bejesus out of me! The scene where the whole back end lifts out of the water and crashes back down on those people! AHHHH! Terrifying! And totally something that might happen to you on any random day of your life. Totally legitimate fear, I know.

Anywho, so during our little tour of QM, we were walking around the entire engine room in the bottom of this stupid thing, when I innocently rounded a corner and all of a sudden found myself in a completely dark room filled with nothing but glass, eerie green lighting, and the ships propeller, still underwater, in some sort of a tank attached to the ship. Things went hazy, and I heard Celine Dion crooning in the distance.
Feast your eyes:


I literally screamed, pushed Ashton out of the way, and took off running up seven flights of stairs to the outside of the ship. I LEFT MY FIVE YEAR OLD NEPHEW TO FEND FOR HIMSELF WITH A HAUNTED, WELL-LIT SHIP PROPELLER.

Not one of my finer moments. It took Greg a solid hour to stop laughing.

And thus is the story of the last time I will ever tour the Queen Mary.