You know you’re a parent when the notion of a direct flight makes you want to sing, dance and strew rose petals around your immediate area.
Our flight back to Oklahoma (which is zooming up far too quickly for my taste) takes us from San Jose directly to Dallas and I couldn’t be more thrilled. It may not seem like much but plane changes and layovers are the banes of my existence. After spending the entire first leg of the trip in a state of low-grade paranoia about whether we’ll make it in time for our second flight, I have to re-pack all the paraphernalia we’ve disgorged from our bags, deplane and make our way through yet another airport – either running in a panic because we are late or shuffling along like tortoises because we have hours to kill. There’s a second set of snacks to be bought, a gate to be found, the boarding process (again), and the digging out of all the crap I just packed up (and will have to pack up again shortly). Compare to that the direct flight which entails only one of everything and that is why I want to do the happy dance. I mean, really – if I have to go home, isn’t it nice to make it as painless as possible?
Now to figure out the DVD situation. The portable DVD we brought with us has perished and I don’t have my laptop. I am not sure I have the intestinal fortitude to attempt a three-hour flight sans video anesthetic.