If you can't make it better you can laugh at it. ~Erma Bombeck


Monday, February 25, 2008

CREATE YOUR OWN ALBUM COVER: An exercise in randomness.

Poetikat had this on her blog the other day. I love futzing around with PowerPoint (I taught Hunker D. everything he knows and that's how he was able to create my wonderful header!), so I decided that this is a "meme" that's right up my alley. And, HEATHER, I'm still working on that music one. There are just so many songs out there that are so significant in my life that I'm having trouble pulling it together. I promise, I haven't forgotten.

Here's what you are supposed to do to create your own album:

Go to……

  1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
    (The first article title on the page is the name of your band.)

  2. http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
    (The last four words of the very last quote is the title of your album.)

  3. http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days
    The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

Use your graphics program of choice to throw them together and post the results on your blog.

And here's mine:

How interesting is it that the random picture turned out to be a watery scene and the album title was about water! And that filling up and not emptying out thing that ties into the education thing??

This whole thing is just one more piece of proof to me that there are no coincidences. Either that or I'm just good a making stuff up when I want it to work! LOL!

Whatever the thing to the thing happens to be, if you decide to do it, please let me know so I can figure out how yours goes together, too! I figured out Poetikats. You should go over there and take a look at it. It is wildy weirdly connected randomness!

Wishing you Peace, Blessings, and Connected Randomness in all you do.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Damama's Use It or Lose It Advice: Family ties are built, not born.

"No I didn't. You're just a poopy head sore loser."
"MOOOOOOM!!!!!! He called me a poopy head!!!"
"He called me a cheater!"
"You ARE a cheater!!"
"Well you ARE a poopy head!!"

Sound familiar? When my boys were little that was how nearly every game between them ended. Being young and dumb, I attributed it to normal kid behavior that I could do nothing more about than to put up the game and make them go do something else. Separately. As hard as I tried, I could never really get them to play nicely together. Now, looking back, I realize that there was one key ingredient missing from their playtime: Me.

Don't get me wrong, my kids weren't neglected in either the legal or the moral sense of the word. They were clothed, fed, educated, disciplined, hugged up, smooched on, and told every day of their lives how very much I loved and cherished them. I just never knew that I really need to play with them, too. And that makes me sad - for them and for myself.

I think I've mentioned before that I was adopted at the age of 10. Prior to that, I'd pretty much raised a younger brother on my own because my biological mother was an alcoholic prostitute who usually only came home when she had “work” to do, or she needed to sleep off a bender. Having become a mommy at the tender age of about 3, I missed out on those very important early developmental stages of my childhood. I didn't experience the joy of having a mother to play with, so when I had children of my own I had nothing on which to base that part of their raising.

Until they were around 10 or 11, I really didn't know how to relate to them. By the time I finally started figuring it out, they didn't want to play with me. I was MOM, for cryin’ out loud – not somebody to have fun with! It hurt me deeply when they'd come home laughing about all the great times they'd had at so-and-so's house; how that person's mother was so fun and cool. The first time one of them referred to a friend's mother as "mom" it broke my heart. I just didn't understand why my house wasn't a fun place to bring their friends to play. I didn’t realize until years later that I hadn't set myself up as someone who was fun to play with, so they found more enjoyment in others.

And the saddest part of the whole saga is that by me not playing with them, they never learned to play with each other. I didn’t know how to help them be close because, again, thanks to my own upbringing, I’d never been close to a sibling as a playmate. I was adopted as an only child, so I didn’t have any brothers and sisters to play with. I never learned that lesson that larger sibling groups are taught: get along, play nice, or else. And because I didn’t know, I couldn’t teach.

My guys were very different types of boys from the get-go. Bug was the brainy kid. Twig was the brawny one. Bug wanted to be inside reading, doing puzzles, or playing computer games. Twig loved anything outdoors and could jack a ball off a t-ball stand over a two-story house by the time he was 5. My thought process revolved around allowing them to be their own person. After all, you can’t MAKE people like each other, even if they are brothers. And since they had nothing in common, I thought it was best to just let them do their own thing.

That’s a great idea for building strong, independent, self-sufficient men, but a rotten idea for building strong, connected, close-knit families. No, you can’t MAKE people like each other. But how will they know whether they actually like each other if they don’t ever truly get to KNOW each other? And the only way to really get to know someone is to spend time with them. And for kids, a big part of that has to be parent-involved play time.

Looking at life from the far side of Hill Five-O has given me a whole different perspective on things. I wish I’d spent more time thinking about how to build relationships and less time worrying about how to build wealth. I understand more about the need to slow down and make memories as well as hurrying up to making dinner.

How about you? When was the last time you had fun with your children? About now you may be thinking that that means stopping everything else and focusing 100% of your attention on them. Well, sometimes it does. And those times are important. But those day-to-day fun ops are so much more important. Those times when you have them together and can turn some everyday moments into Wow, whattaday! memories. For each family those opportunities are different. You have to be creative and attentive if you are going to find them. It could be something as simple as letting them fold their breakfast napkins into hats or as elaborate as a Super Bowl party that includes you throwing all the normal rules out the window and just having fun.

One of the coolest examples of these kinds of fun-teaching, memory-building, bond-strengthening games I’ve ever seen is the Dessert Game that Allison over at A Mom Thing has devised. In her words, they have used this game to teach their kids... “To share and help each other out. To have fun no matter what...And to realize that oftentimes the gamble just isn't worth it.”

I have a feeling that Allison’s kids will be close in a way that mine never will. Please don’t be like me and reach this stage in life with regrets born of ignorance. Now that you know, you must act like you know. SO GO PLAY!

Peace, Blessings, and Strong Bonds to all.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008


GOOOOOOOD MOOOORNIIIIIIG BLOGGERLAND! Would you look at this! I am up at 8:27 a.m. Have been since 7:30 or so. And I'M AWAKE!! Not sitting here staring at the black TV screen wondering why I'm vertical in the bed. Not doing the head bob thing like the people in that new commercial for a seriously over-caffeinated beverage. WHY?? Because I'm turning over a new leaf. I'm going to try to quit staying up until 2-3-4 a.m. and then sleeping until 9:30 or so (10:30-11-...). This may not last, but at least I'll know that I tried! The weird part is that I actually feel pretty good this morning. LOL! Who knew! OK - on to the post at hand.

A while back I added a thing on my sidebar called "Some neat places and great posts to go check out." It's way down toward the botton, and I tend forget about it myself unless I find something cool to add there, so I'm sure y'all mostly miss it altogether. Well, no more. I'm going to start point out when I add something over there instead of just leaving it to chance that you'll see it.

So far there's a link to a fun look back at a 1977 JCPenney catalog. By the way, I wore a few of those. No kidding. No, I'm not telling you which ones. OK, maybe later.

There's also a link to The Seven Dwarfs of Menopause . If you have not seen this you ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO GO THERE! You will be sending the link to your mother, your aunt, your neighbor, and the family members of that weird church lady whom you never know how to handle. Believe me, if you haven't reached that stage in life yet, YOU EVENTUALLY WILL! And then you'll be really glad somebody GETS IT! Well, you will unless you happen to be having Psycho day, then all bets are off!

I am now adding a third post to the list because it made me laugh some and weep a little remembering a lot of fun things about my kids' teen years in the 90s. If you are one of the kids of the 90s, you'll be smiling, too. It is over at Susan's House of Hooes, and it's titled Awww, sweet nostalgia....

And I'm adding a link to a pretty cool monitor cleaner that Brandi over at O.W.IN G.S. posted yesteday. Once you see it, you'll be wanting one of your own! It's actually a multipurpose cleaning tool that is very kid-friendly.

Well, that's it for now. Don't get your feelings hurt if I haven't found anything of yours to add yet. It's a work in progress - there are more to come, I promise!

Have a great day! I'm sure going to. And then around 3:00 I'll probably have to go take a nap. This getting up early is hard on an old bod!

Peace, Blessings and Happy Clicking!

Monday, February 18, 2008

Smiles and Shivers of Randomness - Cowlentines, Zinias & Tofurkey, OH MY!

I've got all these things that I take pictures of when I'm out and about because I think, "HEY! Wouldn't that be cool to blog about!" But then I never get around to putting them in here. So here is the first installment starting with:


BUG'S VALENTINE came via UPS yesterday. To appreciate this, you have to know that cow jokes have been a running gag in our family for years. This is, therefore, quite possibly the most moooving Valentine I've ever received!

Did you notice up there that it even comes with baby cows in it's tummy!! My son is tooooo funny! LOLOL! And I love him very much.

While I was outside taking the above pictures, I noticed that my zinnias are blooming! In FEBRUARY! All three colors in the pot have gifted me with flowers and I wouldn't have noticed if Bug hadn't sent me that COWlentine! Last summer they refused to bloom at all, but now, here in this crazy, mixed up weather mess we've been in, they are doing great! I'm thinking that it's a gift from God to let me know that even in the hardest times, if you look, you will find beauty.

and now for the...


I was grocery shopping before Christmas (Yes - that long ago. I told you I've been snapping these pictures for a while now!) and saw this culinary delight tempting me from the frozen food section. I was grocery shopping yesterday and there is still some there, so it's not just a seasonal delicacy.

And I do apologize to those vegans who enjoy this type of thing, but as for me and my house... WHAT THE....????

Wishing you Peace, Blessings, Beauty in Bedlam and Tasty Tofurky.

Friday, February 15, 2008

These tools are NOT for sharing!

My bloggy friend, Angela, posted a really good reason to password-protect your phone. After I quit laughing at the fact that she's now looking for a good therapist for one of her kids, I knew I had to tell about one particularly... mmmm... interesting Damama's World experience.

Over the years, Hubby and I have been open to monkeying around with (within limits) some different "things" in the intimacy department. I use the word "things" because the exploration has been definitely limited to the employment of a few different... mmmm... tools of a very shaky nature, and some very ... uummmm... interesting videos. Now, why it embarrasses me to tell you guys this, especially after what happened years ago, is baffling to me. Nonetheless, I find myself blushing over here! OK, moving on...

When Bug was a teenager he was looking for something in our nightstand and -- you guessed it -- found one of our toys. We'd been.. mmm.. playing a couple of nights before and had gone to sleep without putting it up in its proper, safe place. Hubby had been awake enough, though, to think about the possibility of one of the boys coming in before we woke up, and so had stuck it in a drawer. You know that old saying - Out of sight, out of mind. And so it was forgotten. Until Bug needed something that he thought he remembered seeing. In the nightstand. (Note; If you are wondering how I know when he saw it, it had to be this time because this was the only time we EVER failed to put it back! When we remembered it was there we laughed and congratulated each other on getting away with it! HA!)

Now I must tell you that Bug is an EXTREMELY intelligent guy. He was talking in full sentences by the time he was 18 months old. He was reading by the time he was 3. He started kindergarten at a 6th grade reading level. Being so intelligent, he knew enough to know right away he'd seen something he shouldn't have. So, unbeknownst to me, he just closed the drawer and moved on, storing the information in his cunning little brain for potential later use.

Fast-forward to 1999.

While working on a huge project for a large client, I found myself in need of someone who could not only think outside the box, but also worked cheap. 20-year-old Bug had done some work for me at clients' offices before, so as an employer I knew he was good at problem solving. As his mother I knew he needed a job. And as his chief financial aid officer I figured hiring him would actually end up saving me money in the long run. I was so proud of myself for coming up with such a win-win-win scenario that I forgot to remember that wicked, off-the-wall sense of humor that makes him so loveable.

Our team consisted of me, my wonderful right arm assistant DeeAnn, my quality control guru Bug, and 10 other very dedicated employees of the facility whose departments had volunteered them to become part of the group. The work was tedious, repetitive, and challenging all at the same time. We spent hours reviewing accounts for errors trying to tie mistakes that were being encountered together so the IT department could come up with solutions. With 13 people housed in a 12 x 16 room, tempers flared fairly regularly. But by and large you could not have asked for a better group of individuals to work with.

On one particularly difficult day in which people were complaining about their lack of personal space (primarily due to the fact that somebody had eaten Mexican food for lunch and you know the end result of bean consumpation!), a discussion broke out about most embarrassing moments. We all laughed as people talked about having ripped their pants, or spilled something on someone else, or having made a fool of themselves at various times. Then somebody mentioned how horrified she was to have walked in on her parents in the act. She said she never told anybody about it until just then. And that, my friends, is when Bug decided it was time to share his own little secret.

There, in a room, in front of 11 people who were supposed to look up to me as their project leader, my son grinned and said, "That's almost as good at the time I found the dildo in Mom's nightstand when I was a teenager." The room dropped into dead silence as everyone stopped, stared, and waited for me to react, and then errupted in loud raucous laughter when I said, "Well, you shouldn't have been snooping around in my drawers." And since I was not about to let him have the last word, I couldn't resist adding, "And which one did you find, anyway?"

At least I was nice enough not to tell them about his delight at having discovered his penis when he was only 2 years old. After all, a mom has to save some ammo for emergencies, right?!?

The moral of the story is:

If you are going to monkey around,
be sure to re-hide your bananas when you are done!

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Virtual Therapy for the Soul: MAY YOU BE BLESSED

I was going to post a thing today about this painful, ugly, gut-wrenching family drama I'm currently embroiled in. I've been really agonizing over how to deal with it and I was thinking that I'd call on my blogging family to help me sort it out. The post was full of venom and anger, evoking only hurtful thoughts and potentially unhealable damage. Then my wonderful email friend, Margie, sent me this. As I watched and listened, the anger melted away from my soul and was replaced with something new. Something calm. Something warm and comforting.

I'm going to rework my post (yes, I still want your advise and input) and get it out sometime in the next few days. For now, though, I'd like to share this with you. You may have seen it before, but I'd really like you to take a moment to watch it one more time and really consider reevaluating something in your life that is ugly, hurtful, or painful. I'm praying that you, too, can begin to let go of that hurt and pain, and in so doing...


Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Spreader of Love Award

I GOT ANOTHER AWARD!! My Blissy (blog sissy), Lucille gave it to me. And it couldn't have come on a better day. I'm just sorry I've been in such a sluggy mood that it took me almost week to get it posted! In keeping with my own version of award tradition, I'm going to pass this on two others who consistently share their love in action through their blogs.

Kalynne over at The Philosopher-Mom

Brandi over at O.W.IN G.S

Love to all who visit here. You make my days brighter by your presence.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Damama's Use It or Lose It Advice on: Hubby School 101

Hubby came home with these beautiful roses for me and I couldn't resist showing them off. He does this kind of thing on a semi-but-not-so-regular-that-it's-trite basis. Sometimes it's just some little thing he saw that he knew would make me smile. A few times it's been wild flowers he saw and thought of me. He discovered Wal-Mart's online music stuff recently and has made me a couple of CDs with songs that he knew that I'd love, but also with some thrown in that he said made him think of me every time he hears them.

This is the reason that I don't get all upset when we don't make a big deal out of anniversaries, birthdays, Valentines, and other traditional holidays. Unlike some women who only have those few days to look forward to being treated special, I am blessed to have married a man who treates me with love, respect, and kindness every day of my life. And then he goes and throws in just enough silliness to keep me laughing most of the time.

How did I get so lucky?? Well, partially it is because he's a man with a good heart. But I bet most of you married your husband at least partially because you loved his heart. The only thing that I have done differently than most of the women I know is that I have spent years nurturing and honoring any and all efforts he's made at being kind, loving and respectful. And I have never yelled, nagged, or complained about his mistakes.

Only once in 27 years have I returned a gift he bought me. It was a pair of diamond stud earrings he bought because he knew I liked small ones. He didn't realize that he'd purchased baby earrings and the posts were too small for my lobes. I exchanged them for the exact ones in grownup size. And he was right, I loved them.

I wore a man's bathrobe for 6 years because he bought it for me for Christmas. Silly? Not when you know that the reason he bought it was because the color matched my eyes and he thought I would look good in it and that it would keep me warmer than those flimsy robes that generally populate the women's racks. He actually put thought into it, and I honored that. And I loved him for it so much that I put my own silly opinions aside and wore it until it wore out. If I hadn't listened, really listened to his reasons for selecting it BEFORE I made some harsh comment about the fact that it was a man's robe, I'd never have heard him tell me that he loved the color of my eyes and thought the robe was perfect because of that match... and I would have forever killed a piece of his willingness to ever try again.

Over the years I've worn a few things that I didn't particularly like all that much. But instead of frowning or scoffing and making him feel bad about the purchase, I'd spend the next year or so showing him catalogs and playing the guess which one I'd like best game to teach him more about what my taste was (and to learn what his was, also) whether it was in watches, rings, clothes, or sleep wear. By the next time he decided I needed a new something, he'd pretty much have my preferences figured out. And if he was slightly off again, it didn't matter because I knew he was making the effort and THAT is what REALLY mattered.

These beautiful roses are a prime example. For years, he would bring me the traditional cut flower arrangements. And I'd put them in water and oooo and ahhhh over them (even the really gaudy ones in the early days), but when it came time to throw them out I'd always comment on how sad it made me lose them. That's when he started bringing me live plants knowing full well that I'd probably end up killing them anyway - I have a brown ... no make that a black thumb. But that's OK because they will still last longer than the cut kind. I don't recall ever saying, "please stop bringing me cut flowers and only bring me the kind that I can kill on my own." He heard it, though, because I hadn't taught him to shut his ears to everything I said in order to avoid hearing me nag and complain and belittle his efforts.

Each of us teaches the people in our lives how to treat us. If we accept abuse, we get abused. If we give respect, generally, we get respect in return. If we expect love and kindness, and show that by giving love and kindness, it will come back to us. Relationships are all about teaching and learning how to bring out the best in each participant.

What are you teaching your husband about the person you think he is? Have you taught him that you value and honor him, warts and all? Or have you taught him that he can't do anything right and is too stupid to allowed out of the house alone to shop for you? If you constantly find yourself disappointed with what he buys or does for you, maybe it's time to stop and figure out how to change your lesson plan.

Class dismissed.

Monday, February 4, 2008


I embarrassed myself so badly at the chinese food place here in town the other night. There was a group at a table near us who had a baby that looked so much like Alexis AKA Burgh Baby that I couldn't quit staring! The mom kept looking at me, so I finally got up, went over to the table and apoligized and explained that their adorable baby looked like a little girl I know. (Didn't explain how. Didn't figure they'd understand! LOL!) Well, that just made matters worse because big, macho, good ol' boy dad was seriously offended that I thought his SON looked like a girl. So much so that he told his wife she wasn't ever to put that sissy turtleneck shirt on him again! I had to excuse myself and go crack up in the bathroom!

See - I don't just bother people in airports! I'm an equal opportunity blogservationsit!

Sunday, February 3, 2008


When a blog entry that starts out

How does this happen?
My nephew is 5 months old and just got out of the hospital with a broken pelvis, broken ribs, a broken arm and a broken hand. FIVE MONTHS OLD!!

it does a pretty good job of grabbing my full attention. If you want to read the whole thing, pop on over to Susan's and check it out. The short of it is that her nephew has been horrible abused and the state of Kentucky is giving him back to the apparently very unreliable family of his abuser - HIS OWN MOTHER! - instead of to Susan's sister who is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker! The whole story is so unreal!

Please pray for his safety and protection. While we never know the whole story, this one sounds pretty cut and dried. I'm afraid I'm one of those radicals that believes that, especially in cases like this one, the abusive parents should have to suffer whatever the child suffered - AND WORSE!

Thanks for your prayers.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Scenes from an Airport

Edited 2-16-08 to correct typos that were driving me batty (battier??) Sorry if you got one of those pesky notices.

I ended up flying home Thursday night because I was needed more in Houston than in Dallas. My Southwest Airlines flight was scheduled for 8:30, but the person who was taking me to the airport had someplace else she had to be at 7:00, so we went early. When I arrived at about 6:15, I figured it’d be a simple thing to jump on an earlier flight and make it home to Hubby all that much faster. Wrong. The place was packed. Because of the nasty weather in the Midwest and other places, there were flight delays at almost every gate.

The schedule looked something like this when I was finally called to board the 9:00 flight:

Scheduled - - - - - - -Actual
Takeoff Time - - - Departure Time
6:00 - - - - - - - - - - - - 7:45
6:30 - - - - - - - - - - - - 7:20
7:00 - - - - - - - - - - - - 7:00
7:30 - - - - - - - - - - - - 8:50
8:00 - - - - - - - - - - - - 9:45
8:30 - - - - - - - - - - - - 10:10
9:00 - - - - - - - - - - - - 9:00 <--ME! YAY!! 9:30 - - - - - - - - - - - - 11:25

Since it was only 6:45 by the time I got through security, and my flight wasn’t going to take off before 9:00 at best, I decided to kick back and do some blogservation, the results of which I now proudly present.


Man on phone with significant other: “I DO love you. But... Honey... I... Yes, I’m at the airport, the flights are... No, sweetheart, I didn’t get here late on purpose. The weather is... But... (now yelling) OK, YES, I HATE YOUR MOTHER AND I’M PAYING THEM TO HOLD THE PLANES JUST SO I DON’T HAVE TO HAVE DINNER WITH THE B*#$%!!! ((Click. Bzzzzzz.))”

He then turned to his female companion, put his arm around her and said, “And you wonder why I’d rather spend time with you??” ((smooch, smooch))
Two men, a gynecologist and a plastic surgeon (info gleaned from their conversation), talking to a yuppieish, well dressed and impeccably groomed mid-30s couple:

Ms. Prettyuppie: What would you say is most challenging about being a doctor today?
Dr. Gynoman (laughing): Fat women. They gross me out.
Dr. Niptuck: I agree. I mean, I don’t mind working on the ones who come in after losing a lot of weight and need reconstruction and tummy tucks, but those fatsos who just want their boobs reduced or the guts sucked so they can go back out and re-gain it all and ruin my work really piss me off! If I could get away with it I’d charge them double.
Mr. Prettyuppie: Fat people are just lazy. I won’t hire them because they spend too much time in the break room hitting the vending machines!

At which point I leaned up from where I had parked my 230 pound lazy fat back side behind Dr. Niptuck and asked if I could have their business cards so that I could pass them out to all my other hippo friends in order to avoid ever bothering them with our grossness. I never knew that the human body could produce the color of deep purplish red that simultaneously appeared on those four faces. I just grinned and said, “Be careful what you say, folks. The next person might take your BS personally. As far as I’m concerned, none of you are worth me getting upset over. Y’all have a nice flight, now, ya hear?” And I moved on to another observation spot.


Ticket agent 2 seconds before she turned around to see me standing beside the counter and one second before she slapped her hand over her mouth: “What the f*** do they want us to do, pull planes out of our asses?!?!”
Confused passenger to ticket agent 2 seconds before he noticed that there was a little girl standing there watching him wide-eyed as she waited for her father to finish talking to another ticket agent: “How the bloody hell can it be f***ing possible that the G.D. 6:00 plane is going to take off 45 f***ing minutes AFTER the 7:00 flight?? Do you f***ing people have a clue about how to schedule this G.D. sh**??”

Little girl’s daddy, 2 seconds after Mr. F-mouth shut up and 1 second before he realized what he just said in front of his daughter: “Watch your f***ing mouth and don’t take the Lord’s name in vain around my kid!”


Sitting at McDonalds grabbing a bite to eat next a mom and her three little ones: a baby and two boys...

Mom to Big Brother (BB) just before baby spilled her drink: Sit still and quit swinging your legs like that before you kick somebody.

2 minutes later...

Little Brother (LB): Waaaa!!
Mom: What’s wrong?
LB: He kicked me!
BB: I did not!
LB: Yes he did! You wanna see the spot?
Mom to BB: I told you to stop it. Now you have early bedtime when we get home, and apologize to your brother!
BB: BUT...
Mom: BB, you want me to add no WII this weekend?
BB to LB: OKAAAYYYYY. I’m soooorrrrryyyyy.
Mom to both: Sit right here while I go get some more napkins to wipe up baby’s spill.
As Mom heads off with baby on hip, LB smirks at BB and says: "See. I towd you I would det you back."
Little girl talking to her daddy on the phone in restroom stall: “Yes, Daddy, I’m being good, but Mommy has a big boo boo on her hiney and it got blooded on her unnerwear but it’s OK ‘cuz she gots mergency big banaids in her purse and she said she’ll feel better when we get home and she can lay down wiff my doll.”
On the plane (on the way to Dallas), Ms. Skynanny passing out the traditional peanut packs asks a dad (not the same one as at the ticket counter) if he wants some nuts.
Dad: Yes, please.
Ms. Skynanny to little girl (about 3 or so): How about you, sweetheart?
Little girl (very loudly): No, thank you. I’n a girl. I have a GINA.
At which point the dad spit a mouthful of nuts all over the back of the seat in front of him.
On takeoff heading home:
Boy (about 5): I have to go to the bathroom.
Mom: You’ll have to wait until the seatbelt light goes off.
Pilot upon clearing some major turbulence: Ladies and Gentlemen, it looks like we may be rocking and rolling most of the way into Houston, but it looks clear enough right now for me to be able to turn off the seatbelts sign...
Dad to boy: You ready to go, buddy?
Boy (coloring wildly with a dark colored crayon): I don’t have to go now.
Dad: You sure. This may be your last chance.
Boy (giving Dad a weird look): I ‘m sure.

When it came time to deplane, the boy started crying softly with his head hung down and didn’t want to leave his seat. That’s when his parents finally figured out why he no longer had to go to the bathroom. Mom started to say something but Dad stopped her. Then his daddy gently picked him up, wrapped him in a blanket and carried the sad little man off the plane to the first men’s room they found. The last I saw of them was while I was waiting for my bag. They were leaving, little man in clean clothes, dad and son hand in hand. That little boy was looking at his daddy like he was a bigger hero than Superman, Spiderman, and Batman all rolled into one. I thought, Now that’s how a real man does “daddy”.

All in all, it really wasn't a bad time. The vast majority of people and kids were quiet and well behaved. I was truly amazed that the staff didn't lose it a few times, but there was one ticket agent who really impressed me. She never once lost her beautiful smile. I never once heard her complain or snap at a customer. I was so impressed, in fact, that I'm plastering her picture here for the whole world to see. I'm also going to see that the folks over at Southwest know how proud they should be of her.

Thanks, Tameka #72665, for being an example of the kind of person we all hope to get to deal with in such stressful times.

When times get hard and you think you are going to lose your mind with the hassle of it, take a minute to stop and look around. Among the chaos there can always be found a little bit of wisdom, a little bit of love, and a whole lot of humor. You just have to be willing to focus on something other than yourself for a minute in order to see it all.

Peace, Blessings, and Blue Skys for all of life's flights.


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