Excuse Me, You’re Blocking the Child

Not Grogu.

Photo by kaleb tapp on Unsplash

Yesterday, I was streaming on TikTok from the end of the parade. Now, if you know Magic Kingdom, you know the end of the parade route has its own energy — an energy of cast members wrapping up, families lining the street, and a special little corner right by the Main Street Barbershop.

That’s where sometimes kids come out after their haircut, escorted by a cast member, just in time to wave at the characters. It’s a magical kind of moment — a bit of Disney pixie dust that doesn’t cost extra.

So there I am — standing back, out of the way, trying to be hyper-aware of the cast and the families, especially this one family with a baby on a lap. I’m specifically avoiding blocking their view.

And then, boom.

This man — I won’t call him a content creator because he didn’t even have that kind of posture — just some random guy with a phone — strolls up and plops himself directly in front of the baby. No hesitation. No awareness. The family didn’t even have time to lean forward to reclaim their view — they just looked stunned.

So I turned to him and said what needed to be said:

“Sir, you’re blocking the child. You need to move.”

He looked mortified.

Now, I could blame that moment on the rise of content culture, but I doubt he was even doing anything with the video. Just a man with a phone feeding his own narcissism in the least meaningful way possible.

And this is where I’ve had enough and this isn’t just about vloggers. This is about regular people who’ve become infected with entitlement, who think a smartphone is a license to ignore their surroundings and shove in front of children for a blurry memory they’ll never revisit. We need to do better.

And if that wasn’t enough — the night before at EPCOT, I witnessed a full amateur hour: this guy with an eight-foot selfie stick — yes, they must have been out of the larger model — a GoPro mounted on top, flailing in the wind. No counterbalance, no weight, just pure chaotic nonsense.

He’s whipping this thing around near Port of Entry, his elbows flying, shoving through crowds, pushing actual children aside. I was mid-stream. I stopped, reached into the crowd, grabbed his backpack, and yanked on him.

Yes. I did that.

This idea that every moment needs to be captured at the expense of others — especially kids, families, or cast trying to do their jobs — is not magical. It’s toxic.

So I’ll keep calling it out. Loudly. Publicly. Because Disney may be the Most Magical Place on Earth, but that magic doesn’t excuse selfish behavior. This is an everyone issue and it is not limited to the World of Disney.