As with any flight to Orlando, our flight had more than its fair share of families and kids going to see Mickey Mouse. One child, unfortunately, was not happy the Star Trek transporters weren’t working and decided to throw a tantrum in the middle of the aisle. As Heather stood there waiting to for the parents to resolve the situation (i.e. shut the kid up and stuff him in a seat), one of the flight attendants remarked, “welcome to the kid canoe.” Too true. Other than that, not much of interest happened on the way to Orlando. Even with the traffic mess at the Orlando airport, we managed to get home at a reasonable hour.
I always find it strange walking in to our house here. It was our home base during our years spent overseas, so it’s very comforting to be here and not in a hotel our staying with family for days on end. Still, without a lot of the comforts of our current home, it doesn’t feel like home. Then I sit down on the couch and find dog hair left from when Holden was last here two years ago and realize that home is all relative.
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