Monday, April 7, 2008
We’re back from Mexico, gang! It was super fun and we had no casualties, except for the day when Diana got both pooped on and puked on by Elijah. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Rather than drop a massive, all inclusive blog entry that would take all day to type and read and get us all fired, I’m going to break the finer points into easy to digest blocks.
For weeks prior to the trip, our biggest worry was Elijah on the airplane. My friend Matt once said the worst thing that can happen on a flight is your kid goes bonkers and disturbs everyone within scream distance. But they would all be people you’d never see again. But that only made Diana more nervous because she knew if Eli went nuts, it would be in her arms and me and her mom would pretend not to be related to the red faced lunatic. At most, we could be counted on to cluck, “Oh, that poor woman.”
To make matters worse, Eli was 24 hours away from having a 104 temperature.
As we settled into our cramped United Airlines seats, Eli was moaning like a cat in heat. The fat American in the row ahead of us began grousing about sitting in front of an infant and unsuccessfully tried to change seats. This, from a man who announced loudly that he just got back from the airport bar (it was 9:30am) and would need to use the “pisser” soon. I began to hope Eli would start screaming.
But, to our delight, he was great on both the flight there and back. He cried about 5% of the time. Unheard of for a kid whose temp was still above 100. On the way back, he discovered the two co-eds in the row behind us and spent four hours flirting. It wasn’t all perfect, he was a little wild from time to time and screeched like a monkey while crawling in and around our seats.
But compared to the two year old at the back of the plane who was screaming bloody murder and alienating people he’d never see again, Eli was an angel.
More Mexico to come.