My son just called. He's getting on his plane to come visit for Thanksgiving, and wanted to remind me that I shouldn't call him in the meanwhile because his phone's off. I really hadn't intended to. I'm pretty sure I can save whatever burning questions I have for him for 2 more hours. Anyway, his call reminded me that I have to go to the airport early to trade in an old, unused ticket for a new one for his trip over Christmas. The kids of divorce travel a lot. There have been summers when he's boarded 12 different planes...
Thinking about *that* reminded me of a story from about 5 years ago. Zack would have been 10 and was still living with me. We were headed home from my mom's house, and when we sat down on the plane (carry-ons full of chicken soup and brisket, no doubt) the guy sitting next to Zack starts telling him that we're going to have a movie, and that the screen is the little box in the overhead that pops out and isn't that cool? Zack, who at this point was flying alone at least once a month to New Mexico to visit his father and who was therefore way too jaded for a 10 year old, elbows me and says, "He thinks I'm stupid." Then the guy says "hey they'll show you the cockpit if you ask after the flight, it's pretty cool..." and Zack rolls his eyes at me. I'm not sure what maternal instinct it was, but I tried to defend him by showing off for him. I said, somewhat sophisticatedly, "Actually, he probably has more frequent flyer miles than you do." The guy said, "I doubt it. I'm a pilot."
D'oh.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
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