I donít know what other suburban Southern California moms Ė hereafter referred to as the much more hip-sounding SoCal moms Ė are thinking about when theyíre in line to have their bags searched before they can enter the land of Disney. I know that Iím usually trying to keep my three sons from hitting, biting, or screaming, until we can officially become temporary royal subjects of this happy land. But the other day was a bit different. Iíll let you in on a secret that those of us annual SoCal passholders know about Disneyland: Donít go when school is out! The crowds are horrendous. As a result, I hadnít gone since the first of June, before the London bombings, before renewal of the Patriot Act.

We were in line in the late August heat to go to a two-year-oldís birthday party. Iíll give this to the land of the mouse: Even when itís crowded, theyíre great about getting people to the warrantless baggage search quickly. And they are nice as they look inside your bags.

I donít know why we moms so quickly and easily acquiesce to this search. Disney has every right to do it, of course. Disney is a private company and the land is private property, whatever that means these days. We ticketholders have every right to refuse. But Iíve yet to see someone turn and walk away from a Disneyland search. Perhaps itís because we have one or two or three children to keep us distracted. Or maybe itís because most SoCal moms have to submit to much more humiliation when we visit our childrenís grandparents: No one was actually born and raised in Los Angeles. We all have to herd our children through metal detectors, taking off shoes and folding strollers and taking off baby slings, all to show that, pregnant or nursing, we are not terrorists but merely moms trying to get some children to Grandpaís house.