Some people remember their Disney cruises because of the beautiful destinations.
Others remember the entertainment, the characters, or the incredible food.
Me?
I remember a man named JR.
And a spoon.
Yes. A spoon.
But we'll get to that.
Table 108. Our Happy Place.
For 13 wonderful nights aboard the Disney Dream, Dave and I sat at Table 108.
Same table. Same two people. Lots and lots of food.
And one absolutely extraordinary server named JR.
Now, I've been on quite a few Disney cruises. Twenty-seven, to be exact. So I've met my fair share of wonderful dining room servers.
But JR?
JR was something special.
He was funny, friendly, attentive, incredibly talented, and somehow managed to anticipate what we wanted before we even knew we wanted it.
And most importantly, he figured out Dave and me almost immediately.
You see, we have a little dining situation.
We like to eat quickly.
I know. How terribly unromantic.
Some people enjoy sitting through a lovely two-hour dinner, savoring every bite, enjoying the atmosphere, and having meaningful conversations.
How nice for them.
Dave and I would like our food, please.
Preferably now.
We have places to go. Things to do. Possibly another dessert to find.
And JR understood.
Every single night, he managed to serve our small plates, entrées, and desserts in approximately ONE HOUR.
One hour!
And we weren't exactly making his job easy.
We ordered multiple appetizers. Multiple entrées. Sometimes things we weren't even sure we would like.
We are curious eaters.
Well, Dave is.
I'm a picky eater who occasionally gets brave.
But JR never questioned our ordering habits.
He encouraged us to try new things, made wonderful suggestions, and somehow kept everything moving without ever making dinner feel rushed.
It was a beautiful thing.
Thirteen nights. Thirteen dinners. One very happy Table 108.
And then there were the desserts.
Oh, the desserts.
JR and the Great Dessert Understanding
JR figured out something else about me very quickly.
I love desserts.
Not just a little.
Not just on special occasions.
I LOVE desserts.
And unlike my relationship with most vegetables, my relationship with desserts is built on trust, admiration, and a willingness to try almost anything.
JR understood this.
In fact, he understood it so well that he eventually stopped asking me what I wanted for dessert.
Because why bother?
He just brought me ALL of them.
Yes. All the desserts.
Every single night.
When dessert time arrived, JR would look at me and give me a little wink.
That was our system.
No complicated decisions.
No pretending I was only interested in one dessert.
No awkward moment when I had to explain why I needed three different chocolate creations.
Just a wink.
And then the magic happened.
Dessert after dessert would appear at Table 108.
It was glorious.
It was probably a little alarming to anyone walking past our table.
But JR didn't care.
He knew I wasn't going to eat every bite of every dessert.
Some received a polite taste.
Others received my complete and undivided attention.
And a few were so wonderful that sharing was absolutely out of the question.
But JR made sure I had the opportunity to try everything.
He turned dessert into an event.
And I loved every single minute of it.
But believe it or not, bringing me mountains of desserts wasn't even my favorite thing JR did.
That honor belongs to something much smaller.
And considerably longer.
The Spoon. Yes, THE Spoon.
Now, before you judge me, I need to explain something.
I love ice cream sundaes.
Absolutely adore them.
And Disney Cruise Line has some wonderful sundaes.
But there is a problem.
A serious problem.
At the very bottom of those tall sundae dishes, hiding beneath the ice cream, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and other wonderful goodies, is always one last delicious bite.
And I want that bite.
I paid for that cruise.
I'm eating that bite.
Unfortunately, the regular dessert spoons are simply not designed for this very important mission.
They're too wide.
They're too short.
They cannot properly reach the bottom.
Trust me. I've tried.
I've tilted the dish. I've twisted the spoon. I've attempted some highly questionable dessert maneuvers.
And still, that last little bit remains.
Mocking me.
Unacceptable.
Now, many Disney cruises ago, there used to be a solution to this terrible problem.
Disney provided two different spoons at dessert time.
A regular dessert spoon.
And a beautiful, long, skinny sundae spoon.
That sundae spoon was magnificent.
It could reach every corner of the dish.
Not a drop of chocolate sauce was safe.
But somewhere along the way, those wonderful spoons stopped appearing automatically.
Why?
I have no idea.
A terrible decision, if you ask me.
And yes, I noticed.
Of course I noticed.
I notice these things.
Enter JR. The Spoon Hero.
On our very first night, I casually mentioned the old sundae spoons to JR.
Something along the lines of:
"Do you remember those wonderful long spoons Disney used to have for sundaes?"
That was it.
Just a little conversation about a spoon.
Perfectly normal dinner conversation, in my opinion.
I wasn't complaining.
I wasn't asking him to find one.
I certainly wasn't expecting anything.
But JR found me a sundae spoon.
A real one.
Long. Skinny. Perfect.
I was thrilled.
My sundae and I were finally reunited with the proper equipment.
But here's where the story gets really special.
JR didn't just find me a spoon for that first dinner.
He kept it for me.
For all 13 nights.
He actually had a special little spot for my spoon at his workstation.
My spoon!
It had its own home!
Every night, when dessert time arrived, JR would bring out my special sundae spoon.
There it was.
Waiting for me.
Ready to tackle whatever ice cream creation happened to arrive at Table 108.
I never had to remind him.
I never had to ask.
He just remembered.
And that, my friends, is where this stops being a silly story about a spoon.
Because think about it.
JR was taking care of guests, managing orders, serving meals, keeping everyone happy, and doing approximately a million things at once.
Yet he remembered one little comment I made about an old sundae spoon.
And he made sure I had it every night.
Every. Single. Night.
Not because he had to.
Not because I asked.
But because he knew it made me happy.
And it did.
More than he probably realized.
Sometimes Disney Magic Is Just a Spoon.
I've been fortunate enough to experience some pretty wonderful things on Disney Cruise Line.
Beautiful ships.
Incredible destinations.
Delicious food.
Amazing entertainment.
And more desserts than any reasonable person should probably admit to eating.
But when I think about our 13 nights on the Disney Dream, one of my favorite memories isn't a spectacular show or an incredible meal.
It's JR.
It's the way he smiled when he saw us coming to Table 108.
It's how he understood that we wanted to enjoy dinner without spending our entire evening there.
It's how he encouraged us to try new foods.
It's those little winks before dessert.
And it's that ridiculously long spoon.
Because JR did something that I think is becoming increasingly rare.
He paid attention.
Not just to our orders.
But to us.
He noticed the little things.
He remembered them.
And he turned them into something special.
That's what made him extraordinary.
Not the number of dishes he served.
Not how quickly he brought our food.
Not even the impressive dessert parade he organized every night.
It was the kindness behind it all.
The thoughtfulness.
The feeling that we weren't just another table in a very busy dining room.
We were Dave and Maggie.
At Table 108.
And JR made us feel like we mattered.
❤️
🚢 Clearly Maggie's Advice
If you're sailing on Disney Cruise Line, get to know your dining team! Tell them what you enjoy, whether you like a leisurely dinner or prefer to eat quickly, and don't be afraid to ask questions or try something new.
The wonderful dining teams can make your cruise extra special, especially when they understand what makes you happy.
And if you happen to love ice cream sundaes as much as I do, ask whether they have a long sundae spoon.
Trust me.
That last bite of chocolate sauce is worth the effort.
