Hold Me Closer, Minnie Dancer

I was 8 or 9. My little cousin Perry must've been around 7.

We were at Disney World and we both had our lascivious, prepubescent eyes trained on the hot Minnie Mouse that was strutting her stuff on a passing parade float.

Sure, she was fully costumed. But all that costume couldn't hide the fact that she had the curves... and she had the moves.

Perry nudged me. "Hey... what do you think about that Minnie Mouse...?"

He asked this tentatively. As if he wasn't sure if it was okay to feel what he was feeling toward a costumed Disney character. An awakening sense of urgency that her original cartoon incarnation had never inspired.

I nodded, watching her shake her nubian mouse rump.

"Yeah...," I reassured him. "... she's good."