So wish us luck.
On Friday, the monkey posse will be boarding a plane for their first ever flight. Once upon a time I used to love flying. I thrilled to the quake of a plane beginning take off. Flying was fun, an adventure. Looking at the sun sparkling off the clouds in the air felt like peering in a hidden world. Friday's flight has me feeling differently. Am I nervous? Heck yeah, I am. Not because I harbor some irrational fear of flying. Not because I dread long delays in an airport or flying while brown.
I'm in fear of what it will be like cooped up in an airline cabin with two pint sized monkeys, ages two and 8 months old. The two year old - aka Little Monkey, is not known for his patience or love of the unknown. He isn't a big fan of being confined to tight quarters, and he has yet to grasp the concept of "inside voices."
On the topic of voices, monkey #2, aka Miss Mina, has recently discovered her voice, and apparently is once belonged to an opera singer. Not a good opera singer, mind you. She's got one akin to those I remember from Looney Tunes cartoons - the ones who shattered glass with their high pitched squeals. But dang, does she love that voice of hers. Naturally, she exhaults in sharing it with us as much as possible. However much I admire her new skill with the fondness of a parent, I suspect others won't share in my sentimentality.
We will be prepared. We will have mindless kiddie entertainment (Dora), nutritionally questionable snacks (chocolate), and time wasting activities planned for those lulls when all hell is about to break loose ("play with clay!).
I hope they let me bring that clay on board. I am so counting on that clay.
No matter what, no matter how nerve racking the odyssey will be - what awaits us at the end will be worth it.