A life well traveled

We recently flew across the country, from one coast to the other. I have 3 kids. 3 kids, 5 hour flight. LOADS of fun. We had planned to bring our portable DVD player, so they could let movies babysit them, while we relaxed, poolside in seats 25 E and F. You know sipping margaritas, enjoying the rays and the low hum of the 747's jet engine in our ears. Right before we leave, we find the DVD player has had a hard life, and no longer works. Of all the crappy luck.

So before our flight leaves, we head out to buy a new one. Get one, plug it in so it can charge, and of all the crappier luck, it turns out, that we had bought one that needs to be plugged in, whether in the car or the house. So we walked around the airport, kicking our own @sses, searching the gift shops for horse tranquilizers to knock the kids out. (KIDDING of course)

We get on the plane, and it turns out that nobody is sitting in our row. Which, when you have 3 kids, one who is 20 months, life doesn't get better than that. But we quickly remembered the DVD player had failed us and we sunk back into a deep depression. Tornado was actually behaving well, kids were coloring and life was good. Until Tornado tried to shut the tray in front of her. The whiny college guy in front of her turns around, and says, "She shut that really hard and it hurt my head." I tried to explain to him that we have been getting on her about drinking protein shakes, and bench pressing her sisters while she watches Playhouse Disney, and she really doesn't know her own strength, but it would be impressive under her weightlifter bio to put that she, at 20 months old, hurt a grown man's head with the mere tips of her fingers as she returned the tray to it's upright position. He wasn't interested in our efforts to wash away her abusive behavior, so we tried to get her to fall asleep instead.

The girls did do amazingly well, munched on pretzels. They had attended a wedding that weekend, and had unlimited amounts of Shirley Temples, aka kiddie cocktails. When the beverage cart rolled around, I noticed that they had a pink looking drink. I can only believe that they were still living the high life and ordering mixed drinks. It was cranberry juice and sprite. I apologized for my little lushes, and promised to get them help.

The captain announced we were looking at Mexico to the left, and poor Middle cries out, " I don't want to look at Mexicans, I want to look at California!!!!!" I shrunk down into my seat a bit, knowing that what she said didn't sound right, and was hoping that nobody had her little outburst. I tried to explain what Mexican, American, Italian means, to no avail. I asked her if she knew what Mexican meant, and she said "Oh, like tacos?" *sigh* I have failed to create a multi-cultured environment. Please don't hold that against me, along with the kiddie cocktails.

We landed, got out luggage and our travels are over... for now.