Just who is Peyton Meyer, you ask? Only one of the stars of The Disney Channel’s hit series Girl Meets World! Or, as I like to refer to the show, Hands Meet Ears — the high-pitched warble of the titular character is almost as irritating as the voice of that one girl on that other Disney Channel show. For the uninitiated, Girl is the sequel sitcom to Boy Meets World, a bad-and-not-in-an-entertaining-way sitcom that was a “TGIF” mainstay for eight years during the ’90s. I don’t fault the Mouse House for foisting Girl on the tween masses; much of Boy’s fan base are parents now and no doubt relish the opportunity to introduce the characters they loved to their offspring (see My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Transformers). It’s just sound marketing. The plan to meet Peyton Meyer was set into motion when I oh-so-innocently pulled up the PDX Kids Calendar website on my tablet to find a morning activity on a Saturday. I noted to my daughters (ages 8 and 6) that Meyer would be appearing at our local mall. Two backseat tiffs and one protracted search for a parking spot later, we were at ground zero for a Peyton Meyer meet n’ greet. The event, hosted by Radio Disney, was scheduled to begin at 11:00 AM. We were 20 minutes early. There was a line of modest proportions, so I suggested that we play at the playground for a bit. That was my first mistake: by 11:00, the line had grown considerably. Oddly, this did not scare off my star-struck daughters. We assumed a spot in front of a Bath & Body Works window display.

11:03 I note that the crowd is a mix of giddy young girls and ecstatic preteen girls. I appear to be the only father in line. Feeling like at least third runner-up Father of The Year right about now. Of course, you could spin it that most fathers aren’t dumb enough to subject themselves to this circus.

11:05 My eldest, Maddy, is beaming in anticipation. I have to admit, I’m a sucker for a good celebrity encounter. I once saw Bobcat Goldthwait at LAX and was walking on air for hours.

11:08 No line movement, no announcements yet. Girls already getting antsy. Unfortunately, they get their lack of patience from me. This dude had better be as dreamy as his photos.

11:10 I’ve memorized the entire fall line of Bath & Body Works candles. If only I had access to one of them…the breakfast burritos have caught up to the 12-year-old boy in front of me.

11:12 The Radio Disney crew begins warming up the crowd with trivia. I’m all over this. One of those prize packs is gonna be mine…umm, to give to the girls, of course…

11:15 After the 35th “Where’s Peyton?” inquiry from the increasingly-bored girls, I decide to do some recon and head to the staging area to see what the hell is up. That’s when I see it. On the event sign, I notice in tiny wording at the bottom, “Peyton Meyer to appear from noon-2:00 PM.” Shitdamnfuck.

11:19 The good news: I manage to flag down a Radio Disney drone, and Molly nails the answer to an Aladdin trivia question. The bad news: the mangled granola bars I miraculously find in my pocket do little to satiate the girls. Bored and hungry is a scary combination in children. I toss my iPhone at them and do a Hail Mary.

11:27 My mind wanders to the mall stalwarts of days gone by. Chess King…you had nothing to do with chess nor kings, but everything to do with keeping this guy lookin’ fly in 1988. Strawberries…only you could make me nostalgic for the days of paying for something I now get for free. B. Dalton…I used to spend hours in your stores browsing through my favorite kind of books — magazines. I raise my Orange Julius high in tribute to all of you.

11:36 Another unnaturally perky Radio Disney drone is now attempting to teach the line the signature dance from the Disney Channel movie, Teen Beach Movie. Maybe not such a great idea to give a dance lesson to a group of people crammed into a tight space. We belong in the Flash Mob Hall of Shame. On the upside, my wildly gyrating arms accidentally whack Gassy McTootsalot Jr.

11:51 The gaggle of tween girls behind us suddenly begin indiscriminately screeching and pointing at the upper level. A Peyton spotting? Course not: 10 minutes ’til signing + hysteria = any non-threatening 14-year-old boy becomes a celebrity. I give props to the Peyton imposter — he really milked the adulation for all it was worth, waving and blowing kisses to his “fans.”

12:04 Omigod omigod omigod, Peyton’s here! I can’t wait to tell him how much I enjoyed his finely nuanced performance in that episode where he flirted with Riley. Okay, not really. Mall security descends upon the crowd to ensure we’re spaced out properly. Because we might all suddenly forget how to stand in line.

12:07 The girls get their facetime with Peyton. They are appropriately awestruck. As we leave, I glance at the several hundred people behind us. Yeesh, two more hours of this for the poor guy. Suddenly the hour I spent in line doesn’t seem quite as bad.

On the Scale of Daddy Tasks I Don’t Really Care For (working title), the Peyton Meyer saga lands solidly in the middle — not bath time (tolerable), but definitely not ballet recitals (brutal).