My daughter, Lucia, is at that stage in her young life where she has discovered and fallen in love with Disney movies. First, it was Wall-E; now, it’s Tangled. But in between those two was The Lion King. We watched it together one day and it was the first time I’d seen it in years.
I’d forgotten about the quick shot of Mt. Kilimanjaro in the opening scenes so when it hit the screen, I excitedly told my daughter, “Hey, Mommy climbed that mountain!” (In reality, I attempted; summit was unsuccessful, but that’s neither here nor there….)
Lucia then asked where the mountain is. I replied, “In Tanzania, a country in Africa.” We know kids are sponges, right? Every time we’ve watched The Lion King since that conversation took place, when Lucia spots Kilimanjaro, she screams, “It’s Mommy’s mountain!” It’s adorable, really, but not as adorable as what she said a few days ago when we watched The Lion King again. The moment she saw Mt. Kilimanjaro, Lucia said, “Mommy, you lived there?” I replied, “No, Mommy didn’t live in Africa. I just went there to visit.” Then Lucia said, “You take me to Africa?” How could I say anything but, “Yes, of course I will take you to Africa!” Honestly, I was way too emotional to come up with any other intelligible statement.
So, thanks to Disney, now I have to take Lucia to Africa. I’m not complaining.