RIC-EWK
At the airport, Lex runs around blowing kisses at all the ladies and yelling Dadda! at all the men. Our recent talks about airports and airplanes have apparently convinced him we are here to pick up Dadda, and he is looking everywhere.
We walk the length of Concourse B. We do cute stompy dances together, and a twirly whirly dance. We eat applesauce, crackers a cheesestick. Make a mess with orange juice. Help a newsstand rearrange their Reader’s Digests.
In our boarding area, we ask the gate agent if it is a full flight, and switch to have two seats together. Last row. Baby has fun climbing on the seats for minute and looks out the window as we taxi to the runway. While we wait for takeoff he is done. He shakes his head “no” and makes the “brbrbrbrb” sound that means “done with this activity.” He cries a little, fights with me, kicks his feet, is not interested in noo-noos.
And then, takeoff. He looks out the window, amazed. The ground pulls away. The trees and houses get tiny. He decides he does want noo-noos afterall.
He is asleep before we reach cruising altitude. Momma might try to nap too.
