30,000 feet

Last week, we flew to Fort Myers Beach for a little family vacation. No grandparents, no visitors, just us. We needed it.

Luckily on the flight down, the plane was only half full and Andy was able to have his own seat. It was incredibly helpful as he is no longer really able to hold still on our laps. He behaved very well, as well as any almost-two-year-old can be expected to.

Towards the end of the flight he insisted upon getting out of his seat. I told Shawn to let him run up and down the aisle at the rear of the plane for a few minutes since we were the only people back there. When his feet touched the floor he immediately headed for the food service area at the far rear, where the flight attendants do their thing. The flight attendant barked at him and Shawn and sent them away. Shawn said, "Sorry buddy, but it's against the law for you to be back there." And he put Andy back in his seat.

Andy's face clouded instantly. He started to cry and reached for me. I asked, "What's wrong honey?"

He pointed to his father and said, "Mad! Kill Daddy!"

Wow.

I have no idea where he got the phrase "Kill Daddy". Well, almost no idea anyway....