Ar-kansas

Do you have words that you pronounce oddly, even though you know how to say them correctly? For instance, I don’t say “rhinosaur.” I say “rhinasoaorus.” I know it’s weird, but it’s just what I do. Arkansas is another word. I like to call it “Ar-Kansas” so I’ve been having to make a big effort to say it correctly lately.

We landed safely yesterday afternoon after an uneventful flight, minus the usual idiosyncratic things that happen when you’re dealing with the TSA and FFA. Robin, these two things are for you:

1. Marion is now in whole milk and so rather than deal with the hassel of being searched at security for carrying liquids, I opted to travel with empty sippy cups and purchase milk in the concourse. But I took along an insulated tote, one with biult in ice packs, to keep the milk cold once I bought it. They let me right on through without even asking me to take it out of my backpack. Let’s see, can’t fly without Chapstick being in it’s proper plastic baggie and hand searched, but a tot bag full of slushy, icy, chemically goodness, come on through!

2. Why the FAA thinks it’s safer for Marion to be “sitting” in my lap for takeoff and landing rather than being securely snugged up to me in my ring sling, I’ll never know. And because you know a 10.5 month old is perfectly happy just “sitting” in my lap. She wouldn’t think of being destruct-o baby on a plane. Not at all! The flight attendant took great pains to let me know on both takeoff and landing that Mar needed to be out of the sling. Thanks. What she doesn’t know was that as soon as she was required to be in her seat for takeoff and landing, Marzi was popped back in and properly secured as contents always shift during flight!

So now we’re up here and someone had a grand time staying up way past her bedtime playing with Papaw and Marme. Five doting adults and one small child – I think someone is going to be insufferable to live with when vacation is over!

I haven’t figured out a way to add text after the pictures when I blog from my phone, so here’s a few jumbled up pictures. And yes, my dad has a beard and now looks like Father Abraham.

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One Response to Ar-kansas

  1. Jill says:

    All I am going to say is those monkeys were left on “accident” – daylight come and me want to go home!!!

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