Fathers and Flying

    Today is Father's Day, and I am spending it in stressful airports and cramped planes.  But best of all, I get to be with my daddy, a first in at least three years.  I am sure one of my first flights was as a small baby (and I was small) when my father would soar me through the air, airplane sounds and all.  However, the first flight that I truly remember was one when my dad, my blankie (which I called Woobie), my baby doll, and I boarded an airplane headed to Florida to meet my mom.
    At that time in my life, there was no reason for a bag or purse with a book and IPod like I carry now.  My Woobie and baby doll was all I needed.  Before take-off, the flight attendant asked that all items be stowed away in the seat in front of you or the bins over head.  I gently wrapped my baby doll in Woobie and placed her beneath the seat.  The flight attendant seeing this allowed me to hold my baby for take-off (a true treat!).
    After lift-off, I remember looking at my dad with pain in my ears hoping for some pointers or at least a consoling hug.  He responded by popping gum into my mouth and showing me how to chew and yawn.  My head didn't explode like I thought it would, and I give all credit to my dad.
    So here I am sitting on the flight back to the midwest chewing gum and reminiscing.  I may be 25, but I will always treat my father like a daddy still accepting his blown kisses, wise pointers, and terrible jokes.  Cheers to all the daddies out there...

My Dad and I at Muir Woods

My Dad and I at Great-View-of-Golden-Gate-Bridge Place