About two months ago, my dad called and told me that he and my stepmom (otherwise known as Mimi and Bops) were planning a trip to Houston. Mimi was going to drive in on Thursday from San Antonio and he was planning to fly into Houston on Friday. And since he knew that Caroline had been talking about wanting to ride on an airplane, he asked if she could fly with him to Houston.
There was also some talk of going to the Children’s Museum or the zoo, but none of that mattered to Caroline because all she heard was the part about “FLYING ON AN AIRPLANE!!”
Do you know what I’ve heard every three minutes for the past two months?
“IS IT TIME FOR ME TO GO FLY ON THE AIRPLANE? WHEN AM I GOING ON THE AIRPLANE? IS TODAY THE DAY I’M GOING ON THE AIRPLANE?”
It was enough to make me think ill thoughts about the Wright Brothers and their dream of mechanical flying machines.
So, lesson learned. Do not tell a four-year-old about big, exciting plans to fly on a forty minute Southwest flight to Houston more than one minute in advance of takeoff.
Hindsight.
When last Thursday arrived I was still a fool with no thought to consequences, or things that might cause me to develop a twitch, and I told her “Tomorrow is the BIG DAY!”
That announcement set in motion a chain of airplane readiness preparation that hasn’t been seen since Charles Lindbergh crossed the Atlantic.
First we had to pack her bag with essentials for her trip. I drew the line when she tried to pack her Hello Kitty! alarm clock and her three foot tall stuffed dinosaur.
Then we had to pick out the appropriate flying outfit. She originally wanted to wear a skirt with a top that went with her Halloween costume from two years ago paired with her turquoise rainbow socks, but I convinced her she might regret her decision to wear a pirate shirt that’s three sizes too small.
And finally, I had to roll her hair in sponge rollers because she wanted to look her “MOST BEAUTIFUL” for the plane ride.
She woke up at 5:30 Friday morning. I took her to the bathroom and then explained she needed to go back to sleep because I didn’t want to punish Mimi and Bops with an overtired four-year-old hyped up on the pure rush of adrenaline and airplane peanuts.
“I’m trying to go back to sleep but I don’t want to miss my plane!”
“You’re not going to miss your plane. Close your eyes and go back to sleep!”
And because God likes to laugh at me, a plane flew overhead at that moment.
“IS THAT MY PLANE?”
Yes, yes it is. And you missed it. You missed it because you were too busy trying to convince me that you need to wear a pirate shirt that restricts blood flow to your extremities.
“No, baby. That’s not your plane. I promise I won’t let you miss your plane.”
Mercifully, she fell back asleep until 8 a.m. She was dressed and ready to go within four minutes of getting out of bed.
I thought the sunglasses were a nice touch.
Since the flight was scheduled to leave at 11:00, I told Bops we’d pick him up at 9:30 to make sure they arrived in plenty of time and so he could have the joy of listening to her ask “HOW MUCH LONGER?” for the remaining hour and a half until departure.
Here they are when I dropped them off at the airport for Caroline and Bop’s BIG ADVENTURE.
Through the rearview mirror I watched them walk hand in hand into the airport and cried at the sweet picture the two of them made. It was a moment I’ll never forget, a moment filled with the sweetness of watching a memory being made.
As soon as they landed in Houston, they called me and put me on speakerphone. The first voice I heard was Caroline saying “Mama, we’re here. I LOVED THE PLANE. WE LANDED!”
But the voice that meant the most at that moment was the voice of my daddy telling me it was more than he could have imagined. He couldn’t have dreamed of her excitement at every little detail of air travel, from the fold-down tray table to the free bags of pretzels to the takeoff and landing. When they finally landed, he said she leaned over and kissed him while saying “Thank you, Bops, for taking me on this airplane!”
He told me later it was one of the highlights of his life. I know for sure it was one of the highlights of Caroline’s life.
And in a weird way, although I wasn’t even there, it was one of the highlights of my life too.