At Burning Man in August, as I huddled on the desert plain during a sandstorm, I decided that I wanted to travel more and see my family more. This holiday season, we're traveling together in Madrid and Paris.
Our flight out of Philadelphia last night was delayed by five hours, as technicians switched out the cockpit door. I slept during the delay, and throughout the ensuing seven-hour flight to Madrid. Upon arrival:
Tom: "I can't wait to get off this plane. They only served drinks once, seven hours ago. I'm parched!"
Me: [very amused] "I've never heard anyone say that, except a talking plant in a cartoon."
... getting off the plane ...
Tom: "I can't believe we've been traveling for 24 hours. Why does it take this long, just to get from one side of the world to the other?"
Me: "Tom, it used to take a lot longer. There's a book 'Around the World in Eighty Days'."
Tom: "Well, we didn't even go around the world! We only went halfway around!"
We checked into our hotel, and Tom has been napping for the past four hours, curled in a ball. Awww.