Sorry I’ve been out of comission lately.  I spent yesterday traveling to Canada with my sister and her husband and their 18 month-old boy.  Ahem—their active 18 month-old boy.

Oh sure, he looks cute enough, but in all reality, kid’s a total hellion.

Now, my friends, I have flown to a lot of places in my life.  I have had uncountable horrible travel experiences adventures.  I have been bumped off flights and forced to sleep in an airport overnight (where I proceeded to throw up several times over the course of the evening).  I have had layover after layover after stinking layover.

From the Phoenix Airport, I have flown to the following far-away places: Washington, D.C., New York, Oregon, Florida, England, and Paris (twice).  I have suffered through many long flights across country and oceans, but yesterday’s 2 hour flight with my active nephew seemed longer than all my international flights combined.

I can think of a lot of things I’d rather do than making the return flight home with him, starting with a root canal and ending with a pap smear/mamogram combo.

I am not lying when I say that he started screaming before the plane ever left the runway, and continued to do so—at the extreme most top of his tiny little lungs—until the last twenty minutes of the flight.  SCREAMED.

Three adults vs. one toddler.  Adults: 0.  Toddler: 1.

So I’m exhausted, and I wasn’t even the one dealing with the little cuss.  You’ll excuse me for my lack of energetic posting?  Please and thanks.

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