Just a Day Ending in "Y"

I think I've finally picked a favorite season -- fake spring. The real thing is great and all, but there's something extra magical about those random winter days that end up being oddly warm. It's just so fantastic to walk around in February without a coat, you know?

Today's fake spring came complete with an on-time escape from work. I've been bad at leaving at a reasonable hour lately, but today I got it right. The sun was even still out when I left! Having the sun still out when you leave work is almost as joyous as the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

So I rushed out of work on time and picked up Miss Mila. She was, as usual, super perky and bouncy and filled with delight because three year olds rule. For real, they do. I knew the second I laid eyes on her that she was in too good of a mood to just go home. So we didn't. Instead, we ran to the playground to more thoroughly enjoy the fake spring day.

Mila climbed the rock walls, jumped off the ledges, spun the wheels, and flew down the slides. It was all perfect and great and MORE FAKE SPRING, PLEASE. Because, man, the kid is in such a good place right now. She's still little but big enough to not be a fulltime job (just 98% of a fulltime job, which is worlds better than she was even six months ago). It is officially fun to take her places and let her do her thing. I still have to worry about her doing a dumb thing, but it's nowhere near as major of a thing as it was months ago. It's almost like she's growing up and maturing.

Maybe someday she can teach me how to do that "mature" thing. Maybe.

In the meantime, I have no point that I'm trying to make. There's no punchline or clever line or anything like that. It was just a really good day with perfect "fake spring" weather and it included Mila excitedly going down the slide and then saying, "That was so fun! I'm going to do it again!"

The little non-events are the best part of this crazy thing called "life."

Point. Set. Match.

There is a solid list of things you can be sure I will repeatedly screw up. Having water around on Tuesday nights is REAL high on that list. It never fails. Each and every Tuesday, I take the girls to gymnastics. Each and every Tuesday, Mila and I get back in the car after her class and have an hour to blow until Alexis is done. Each and every Tuesday, Mila asks for water in that hour and I fail her. Over and over.

There's a lot of yelling. You'd think I'd learn.

But, this week I wasn't a total failure! I mean, I was, but I happened to have my water in the car. It was flavored carbonated water but it still counts. So, when Mila did her usual dying of dehydration thing, I handed over my drink and waited.

I was a little disappointed, if we're being honest. I wanted it all to myself. Still, sharing it with the Tiny Human was better than listening to her whine.

She whined anyway. It wasn't plain water, so she was initially mad. But then she figured out that I have excellent taste in beverages and she started to enjoy the drink we were sharing.

Er, I mean "Sharing."

The kid guzzled my entire drink. Every last drop of it went down her little throat and she was SO proud of herself. I, of course, was not amused. I planned on still getting some of that water so I said as much.

Mila, grinning, pulled the bottle back. "It's not empty! See!" she said as she tried to spit in the bottle.

I am being defeated by a 3-year old. It is happening. Daily.

Shout Out To My Favorite Stranger

I knew he was from Texas before he loudly told the plane filled with people that he was from Texas.

I have a thing for people watching in the airport. I can walk around an airport for HOURS just watching and observing and taking in the sights. The most interesting people scurry around and run onto airplanes. A weird thing happens when they get on those plans, though - they stop being interesting to me. I can stand at a gate surrounded by the BEST people watching of all time and it will instantly stop being fun if I have to join those people in a small space.

I really don't like sitting on planes. Can you tell?

Thus, I'm always either the last one on the plane or I screwed up that day because I'm supposed to be the last one on the plane. I would have been the last one on the plane that day except that my little buddy from Texas played the game better than I ever have.

He wasn't just waiting until the last possible second - he was busy telling anyone who would listen that he couldn't possibly be expected to sit with the peasants. Apparently my friend from Texas screwed up in making his reservation and had an Economy Class ticket and HOOOBOY was he sad about it. He was the sort of sad that leads to begging and pleading and such.

"I don't think you understand, ma'am. It's a really bad idea for me to be on this plane without a bottle of booze in my hand."

Huh. Weird thing - that argument didn't get him anywhere. I can't imagine why nobody took pity on his soul.

When my little friend was done begging every airline employee he could find, he started with the other passengers. Dude literally went from row to row trying to find someone who would be willing to switch seats with him. He even spent 10 minutes of his life trying to convince a mom who was flying with a 2 or 3-year old that he deserved to be in Business Class more than she did because babies can't take advantage of the free booze.

Really. That was his argument.

Sadly, nobody would switch. I say "sadly" because the stranger from Texas was supposed to be seated directly behind me.

Once in his rightful seat, he talked and he talked and he talked. He told everyone who wasn't listening about how he was from Texas, that he was headed to Qatar to work, and that he would happily part with $250 for the seat upgrade if only anyone would listen to his desperate pleas to get upgraded.

He didn't stop talking until the guy next to me spoke up. "Listen, man. At this point, I need a drink more than you do and it's because you won't stop talking."

That man is my hero.