A few years ago, my Dad had his I’m-getting-so-old-what-can-I-do-to-make-me-feel-younger mid-life crisis. I think at that stage, most men buy a swish shiny sports car that goes really, really fast. My dad bought a plane. He loves his plane. He took flying lessons, got his flying licence, and often flew my Mom somewhere for the day. He hasn’t flown in a while, but he is still proud of his plane.
Naturally, he wanted to show his see-I’m-still-young plane to Hannah. She has been saying “air-pane” ever since we got here. Not really because she likes them, but because she knows that is how we got here, and thus how we will eventually get home. I keep telling her “not yet, the big airplane isn’t ready for us.” Sometimes she looks at me rather seriously and then says “bus.” I suppose in her mind that makes sense. I mean a bus does get you places. Just not from the U.S. to Australia….
We pulled up to the little air field where Dad keeps his plane and Hannah was all excited. Dad got a phone call, so we sat in the car for a bit while he talked and somehow managed to hear the person on the other end, despite Hannah’s constant,
enthusiastic chants of “Air-pane! Air-pane,” no doubt thinking she was about to go home.
Dad put her in the cock pit of his plane. “NO!” Hannah said, rather disgustedly. I took her out.
Immediately, she started pointing at the plane next to Dad’s “this one! This one!” She told us, running towards it. When we got there, she wanted in that plane.
“No Hannah, that’s not Grandpa John’s plane. We can’t go in this plane.”
“This one! This one!” Clearly, a 20-month old doesn’t understand the laws of ownership.
“Hannah, did you like Grandpa’s airplane?” he asked her on the way back to the car.
“No!” she pointed to the one next to it as I carried her along. The one she ran to in delight. “THIS one!”
I think my Dad’s ego may be slightly bruised. I, on the other hand, thought it was HILARIOUS!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
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