I know there are only a few of the team members who actually check out the blog, but for those that do, I am requesting that you recount some of your favorite stories from years past. The following is one of mine from last year.
Last year was my daughter's first trip, we'll call her Dabba, since that is what her big brother nicknamed her when she was very small. Check the "Mischief" picture below for visuals.
Anyway, Dabba had a wonderful trip and never once appeared to be the slightest bit homesick. However, I noticed when we landed in Houston she seemed extremely excited. She talks slightly loud anyway, but she seemed to yell everything she said, and she could not be still. She jumped, she twisted, she flew, she slid, she ran, she did anything but be still. Our layover was short, so we pretty muched walked right onto the connecting flight without waiting.
Now you and I both know that sometimes the Lord gets a good laugh off of us occasionaly, and this day was one of those days that he needed a belly laugh. Right as we taxied out to the tarmac a line of thunderstorms rolled through the airport and we were delayed about 30 minutes there in the sardine can version of an airplane.
And, you guessed it, Dabba was bouncing around in her seat like a super bouncy ball dropped off the Empire State Building. I asked her at what point somebody slipped her the Brat pills during the last flight, but she could not hear me over the din of her own questions that were fired like a submachine gun. Really fast and in all different directions.
We finally got out of Houston, but her condition worsened. The closer we got to home, the wilder she got. I thought I was going to have to "tranq" her. I was really feeling sorry for the guy seated in front of her, but then I noticed that in a previous life he must have been a mother, because he came prepared. He had earplugs. I sort of relaxed when I saw that and turned on the Mom tuner that shuts out all but the really important babble, and started reading a book.
Just before landing, Dabba was browsing the skymall magazine for the 786,453 rd time, when she suddenly slammed it shut and rammed it back into the seat pocket. At that point she turned to me and declared in her louder than life voice, "That stuff in there is just too expensive, if I want to go shopping, I am going to go to Belize where they have that 50% off sale all the time."
The currency rate in Belize is $2BZ=$1US, so most everywhere you go the price is actually 1/2 of what it is marked in US dollars. Dabba considers this 1/2 off sale to be one of the best reasons to go to Belize.
Anyway, we finally landed in Mobile, where she proceeded to shout at everybody in front of us "What is taking so long!" "Open the Door, let's get out of here!" Believe me when the door finally opened, nobody wasted any time getting off that plane. Dabba flew out of it and up the hallway and did not stop until her arms were securely around her Daddy's neck and her face was buried there. That little girl was glad to be back in Alabama.