Thursday, April 19, 2012

Trying to go home again...

I am sitting in the airport right now, waiting for my flight to be called.  I am on my way to Wichita for Uncle John's memorial service.  He died a few months ago, but this was the first opportunity for something to be put together for him.  As awful and weird as it sounds, I am looking forward to it because Ian is coming as well and this will be the first time Mom, Dad, Ian and I will be together since my wedding.  I guess that's what they say, weddings and funerals.  But before all the memorial service "fun" begins I have to get through this flight.

I never use to mind flying, but something happens as soon as you (or as soon as I ) have children.  Suddenly the sky was full of fiery crashes, terrorist take overs, mad flocks of seagulls or rogue meteorites !  And the worry that my children would be left alone and forget all about me began.  It's the worst when I fly with only the kids, because then I imagine the plane crashing and me dying and them surviving and being hurt and alone.  It's semi-bad when it's just me flying, because then I always worry that I'll die and they'll forget all about me.  More so when they were little, now that they are practically adults I assume I've made enough of an impression that it will take at least a little while for them to forget about me.  And I hardly worry at all when we all fly together - I guess I okay with us all going down together.  I didn't say it was logical.

For this trip I'm not as worried about terrorists, although based on the amount of snacks I've packed you'd never know,  I'm not as worried because I don't think Wichita, Kansas is a hot bed destination for most terrorists cells.  Plus I've had a white chocolate mocha (decaf), a chocolate chip muffin and a bag of gummy bears so I'm pretty much in a sugar coma!

Plus, I'm also distracted by the realization that NOT ONE person in this entire airport is reading a real book.  Everyone is plugged into a Nook, or a Kindle or an I-something.  It's crazy, as I pulled out my REAL in the flesh paperback BOOK... I'm the only one.  I almost feel like I should take my little book and go hide in the corner.  All the other kids are looking at me pityingly - like "look that poor woman has to read a REAL book, she can't afford a mind-numbing electronic device."  Will real book or Nook be the new class line?  NO PEOPLE... I WANT,  I CHOOSE to read a real book!  Plus, when we have to unarm our terrorist attackers and I beat them over the head with  my nice solid book will make much more of an impact than your flimsy mind-numbing electronic screen will make as it shatters into a million pieces.  You. are. welcome.

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