Yep. No entry last Friday. This is becoming a disturbing habit. I was lucky to have another Friday off, which I spent traveling to Boston to visit my cousin Jodi, her husband Michael, and their kiddies Lily (3) and Drew (2). Last week was Drew’s second birthday so the big bash was on Saturday.

Friday morning, I drove down to Baltimore to my parents’ house and we met my brother at BWI airport at the AirTran counter. We’ve flown AirTran before direct from BWI to Logan, and never had a problem. True, you get a miniature bag of pretzels, each the size of a dime, followed by a Dixie cup of the beverage of your choice, but, hey, it’s an $80 flight round trip, so you learn to make do.

Standing ahead of us at the counter was a man in his late 20’s, short, bald, and wearing a black velvet suit. Unless your occupation involves beating a woman with a diamond-studded cane when she comes up short with your money, there is no cause to wear velvet from head to toe.

The flight, while delayed 30 minutes due to rain and fog was uneventful. However, for some reason, when traveling, my mom gets the sudden urge to discuss the contents of her pockets. “I have tic tacs. Anyone need a breath strip? I have two kinds.” Weird.

Anyway, we ride to the rental car agency in the shuttle along with a woman in her early thirties and her new boyfriend who was probably in his early fifties, and dressed like he was in his twenties. You know this guy. He’s the old guy in the club. This guy is wearing a tight gray t-shirt underneath an open short-sleeved patterned silk shirt. His hair is slicked back and he’s sporting a gold chain.

It’s a shame the hair gel doesn’t remove liver spots. Anyway, my mom chooses this inopportune to break out the cell phone and call my cousin’s to announce to her and to the rest of the shuttle that we’re on our way. My mom has no clue about cell phone courtesy. She doesn’t get the fact that strangers value their privacy, and do not want to be included in your conversation. Ah well.

So we get to their house and spend a wonderful weekend with the kids. Unfortunately, the little rugrats wore us out and we never made it out to the bars. Next time. Although, I believe we said that last time, as well.

Lily is in her phase where she won’t take a nap, and gets exhausted late in the afternoon and begins throwing temper tantrums. She also has learned to stick out her tongue at people. And Drew, the little me-too, has learned to mimic her. She also has learned the art of playing her grandparents, my aunt and uncle, like finely tuned Stradivarii, or Stradivariuses. Fiddles. Like finely tuned fiddles.

Anyway, Drew loves trucks; so naturally, we mesmerized him with a few that made sounds. It really is cool to see someone’s face light up in wonder, even if it is over a Tonka Truck.

Drew still isn’t able to pronounce my name, preferring to call me Fuff. I’ll take what I can get. Drew’s also big on asking questions. When we were eating lunch one day, he sitting in his high chair, me drinking invisible milk out of a cup, and he drinking his “mulk” out of a sippy-cup, Drew turned to me and asked, “Ut’s dis?”

I said, “What, Drew?” He pointed to the lid of his sippy-cup. “That’s your cup, Drew.”

“No. Ut’s dis?”
“Oh, that’s the lid.”
“No. Ut’s dis?”
“That? That’s the er…hole.”

Drew listened intently as I tried to explain the hole in the lid of his sippy-cup. How do you explain to a two year old that in order to create a vacuum needed to drink through a straw, one needs to allow for an equalization of pressure across the area, in this case the cup. I did the best I could.

“Oh.”
I thought he had it.
“Ut’s dis?” Drew asked once again pointing to the hole.
Perhaps not.

I tried again, using words he would understand.

“Oh. Why?”
“So you can drink from the straw.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t use a regular cup.”
“Why?”

I saw where this was going in a hurry. I used the only strategy available to counter the “Why” offense. I broke out the “Because” defense.

“Because you can’t use a regular cup.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Why?”
“Because.”

You get the idea. He broke first, and I declared myself the victor. Then we went to find his sister and blow some bubbles in the backyard after she was able con her Pop-pop out of some Hershey’s Kisses.

The rest of the weekend went similarly, with each child growing to love us with each passing moment, only to scar them emotionally when we left. Ah well, such is life.

The flight home was fun, though. A woman sat opposite my brother and me and she was grabbing her head upon takeoff like it might explode. I never wanted popcorn more in my life, as this was one of the coolest floorshows I had even seen.

She also managed to pull an amazing con by pretending to fall asleep during the beverage service only to wake up after they had finished, so they brought her a full can of Coke. My eyes have been opened people. A full can of Coke.

She decided to drink it during descent, and even broke FAA rules and regulations by lowering her tray table while listening to her headphones. I was torn. I didn’t want the plane to crash, but I wanted the electronic interference from her CD player to screw up the pilot’s controls long enough for her Coke to fly back into her lap while she flew forward as the tray table caught her in the gut. But as usual, no luck.

My brother and I also spent time perusing the catalog of overpriced crap gifts also known as Sky Mall. It’s where they take useless crap like the Sharper Image mouthwash dispenser and jack up the inflated price by 15%.

There was, however, one item I will be looking into. For about $60, you can purchase grave markers for pets. We’re looking into getting them for my parents’ anniversary as a way to cut costs for the future. I’m sure they will appreciate our foresight and planning not to mention their cost-effectiveness.

Here lies Mom with her favorite chew toy, Dad.

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