I just learned a lesson at approximately 27,000 feet. I'm on an American Airlines flight from San Diego to Dallas seated next to my eight year old mass of exciting energy, Emily. (Kim & Laura are two rows back in the '"no squirming section") I boarded the flight equipped with a new book to conquer called, "The Stewardship of Life" by Kirk Nowery. Emily on the other hand, boarded the plane with boredom itself to conquer. I taxied through the foreword as the plane made it's way down the runway for takeoff. I flew past chapter one as our plane ascended into the low level clouds. And then it happened...the questions came down faster than the plane went up. "Dad, how do the little breather cups fall out of the ceiling?" "Why is are seat a raft too?" "If the plane lands in the water won't it float like a boat?" "How far is Texas?" etc... And no sooner had the landing gear tucked in then Emily's hand went out ... "Can we have a thumb war?" she asked. I immediately thought to myself, "I've got to read this book."
Then the truth of the moment appeared like a plane breaking through a cloud, "THIS IS THE STEWARDSHIP OF LIFE!"
So I put the book down. Emily and I had a thumbwar for the ages. We ate pretzels, talked, and had a blast! In the background I heard Kim and Laura laughing up a storm.
Life was good. Is good. No matter the altitude.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Stewardship, Stewardesses and Thumbwrestling
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
It's the little thumbwrestling moments that make memories that last a lifetime. I'll never forget when I was a 2nd Grader, and my Dad helped me build a dirt ramp for my Hot Wheel Jeep that I got in a Happy Meal. We played outside a church building for what seemed like hours while we were waiting for a class to start that he was teaching. Instead of going over notes in the car, he chose to build a dirt ramp with me, and I'll never forget it.
In a few decades, Emily might get on a flight, lean over to her husband and say "Wanna play thumbwars", thinking of you the whole time.
Good job, buddy.
Post a Comment