ill-timed laughter

Henry a-top his two big cousins in Austin.

oh-oh-oh-oh

oh-oh, oh-oh-oh

oh-oh, oh-oh-oh

oh my gosh.

That song drives me nuts but the good (and sad) news is that we are back in Erie! After a 17-day trip to see our families, we had a landed north of the Mason Dixon on Saturday afternoon. Kiss the ground, it was 77 degrees.

I have many a story to share, which means I'll probably never get around to sharing. I forgot my camera and am relying on my sister-in-law (ahem) and mother (ahem, ahem) and father-in-law (ahem, ahem, ahem) to send me some pictures of our trip. More on that later!

Meanwhile, a short plane story. On our final flight on Saturday, Henry was tired. He wanted down, to roam the aisles and stick his fingers in the fellow passengers' noses. We finally got him to take a short nap on top of us and were thanking the Good Lord when I look over at Adam. Between his legs is Henry's Nalgene bottle and, because of the altitude, water is leaking out of the straw, drip by drip.

And Adam's crotch is completely soaked.

Now, Henry is asleep on my lap and I don't want to wake him but this is funny. I just picture Adam as we get off of the plane with his pee-my-pants khakis. And so I began shaking with laughter. It was like when you're in the library or a wedding and you just shouldn't laugh...this time, so that I wouldn't waken Henry but I couldn't help it. We were giggling like two sixth-graders. It was funny.

Luckily, Henry slept through my laughter tremors and Adam's shorts almost completely dried (after he pointed the air nozzle at his lap). Flying, flying...what an adventure.