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And we're back

Mallory wrote this report, unassisted, about her Christmas vacation:

The plan ez fieg. (The plane is flying.)

The plan ez cekg ef. (The plane is taking off.)

I like the plan. (I like the plane.)

First, it’s just adorable that she’s composing her own sentences now and I love her rudimentary grasp of phonics. Second, her last sentence is a complete lie. She does not, in fact, like the plane, and may never, of her own volition, get on a plane again in her lifetime. To the cosmic forces that aligned to give this child, who has had a year-long and seemingly irrational fear of flying because it might cause ear pain, a double ear infection the very day we left: You suck. To the cosmic forces that additionally caused the wrong antibiotic to be prescribed so that she still had the ear infection the day we came home: You also suck. To the woman in the row ahead of us on the plane from Houston who kept rolling her eyes and making comments about this child when she cried because her eardrum was getting ready to rupture: You really suck, and you’re ugly to boot. To the handful of people who smiled sympathetically as I dragged this sobbing child through the airport and down the jetway, and who said, “You should try giving her a stick of gum!”: You don’t suck, because you were trying to be nice, but we were so past a stick of gum that your suggestion just irritated me, so I’m sorry if I was less than polite to you.

To Mallory, who was really trying to be very brave in spite of everything: I’m sorry, honey. I have rarely felt worse in my life than I did when I realized what pain you were in, and then when I had to force you to get on the plane anyway despite your protests and your suggestions of alternatives (Call Papa to come and get me! Can’t I stay with Grandmom? Can’t we please just get a taxi?). I can’t promise you that you’ll never have to fly again, but next time we’ll take some sort of precaution (morphine, anyone?) so that it will never again be that bad.

To Phoebe, who entertained herself beautifully on the airplane, and who also tried her best to console her sister along the way (“Aw, it’s okay, Ma-wee! Don’t cry!”): Thanks for being such a sweetheart.

Apart from the ear trauma, we had a very nice Christmas. Mallory was not feeling very well on Christmas Day, but luckily she got a sleeping bag from Grandmom on which she could rest while her cousins leapt around her with their new light sabers. Phoebe responded to every present, with a long gasp and a “Look at that!” It was, obviously, wonderful to see my parents and siblings and nieces and nephews and grandparents. Then we came home to more presents from my inlaws -- in fact I think that my kids have had a present to open from somebody every day since December 22, which is excessive in anyone’s book. Phoebe was distraught when I took down the Christmas tree yesterday. “But I want to see my or-ma-mets!” she cried. But I’m back at work, and school starts back up tomorrow, and I guess it’s time for everyone to return to normal, and to wait and see what 2008 brings us.


aimee said…
I'm so sorry that Mallory had such an awful experience on the plane but at least she is trying to like planes. :) And it doesn't surprise me at all that our little town's hospital prescribed the wrong antibiotics. But that does suck.

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