Remember that one time? When we flew on an airplane? And my girls were super well-behaved?
Ah. That was fun. And, yet, it seems so very long ago.
Then we had to fly home. I guess that’s the problem with round-trip tickets, huh?
Now, let me be fair. Paige actually was pretty well-behaved. Surprisingly so.
Because I’m pretty sure her mission while on vacation was to see just how many times she could drive me to the brink of madness, just to bring me back with something adorable. (Stupid lisps, pigtails and pink glasses. How do I stay mad at those?)
We weren’t seated together. I was in an aisle seat, Paige was directly behind me, and then Derrick and Blair were next to Paige (with Blair on Derrick’s lap). Fully-packed flights are awesome.
This was her pretty much the entire flight. Well, a little more smiley. This was just an “off” moment. Probably when Tinkerbell realizes her wing is ripped.
Not included is a picture of me shoving a diaper underneath her while we spent 45 minutes stuck on a bridge just outside Tampa. She actually thought that was hilarious. Me? Not so much. (Okay, maybe a little. But mostly because she didn’t get any pee on me. And because we were forced to make eye contact the entire time because I was leaning into the backseat. Which led to a giggle-fest. Derrick included.)
Let’s see … who else was on the flight with us?
Oh. That’s right.
Yowza. That’s really all I can say. A friend of mine was on the flight and she said that she and her family didn’t hear anything at all.
She is now one of my favorite-ist friends. She is willing to lie to me, especially via Facebook Messenger. So I can’t see or hear her laughing while she’s lying to make me feel better. (Thanks again!)
Blair was HORRIBLE.
She screamed. She cried. She pulled my hair. She scratched my face. She dumped a cup of ice onto the lap of the little boy sitting next to Derrick. Who was traveling by himself. And who then spent the rest of the flight sitting on Derrick’s sweatshirt and Blair’s blanket so it didn’t look like he peed his pants (it still sort of did).
At one point, she and I were in the teeny tiny airplane bathroom and I was begging, BEGGING her to Please. Just. Stop.
I’m not sure if you’ve tried to reason with a hysterical 18 month-old lately. Let’s just say I won’t count that one as a ‘success’ in my column.
After about 40 minutes of absolute terror, Blair looked like this: