Take Off

So, I was in Tampa yesterday. Flew in Monday evening, out Tuesday evening. Which must have provided a sort of record, since I went from a 70-degree sunny Tampa afternoon to a rough windy landing in Boston at 9 degrees. Farenheit. Not including windchill. (4 degrees when I woke up this morning. Brrrr.)

So anyway, it's a pretty nice afternoon in Tampa, and I've got time to enjoy it since I'm heading across town to the airport and between rush-hour and construction I'm not going anywhere fast. Finally break free on the airport off-ramp and get to move a bit, sun out of my face now, and as I come onto the airport grounds there's a long stretch that's parallel to a runway to my left. I've got my arm out the window enjoying the air going by, and there's a big jet spooling up for takeoff that heads down the runway parallel to me (spoiler: he won the race). And it's silly, but I feel a bit like the first time I saw that happen (somewhere), and felt the power and freedom of that big push up into the sky. My left hand's doing that swoop out the window, in the rush of the car's 40mph along the access road.

And then I somehow flash forward, and there's this little glimpse of me watching the jet go, only now I'm getting to crouch down and point over Mini-Mooo's shoulder, and say, "Look at that!". And Mini-Mooo's face is doing that "WOW!" thing that kids can do, and my brain was just trying to remember a tiny bit of doing.

Yeah, I guess it's time :). I really can't wait. And I'm ignoring the whole diaper thing. The "WOW!" is better.