Homeward Bound

Attention readers:

If you learn nothing else from me as a result of reading this blog, learn this:

If you're traveling with children and you have a sizable layover in Denver, make your way post haste to the second floor of the "A" Concourse. Outside of a few TSA offices and a restaurant in the far corner, the place is deserted. Your children can run around like over-caffeinated monkeys and no one will know. Best of all, there's one of those moving sidewalks up there that - like Alaska's "Bridge To Nowhere" - connects nothing to nothing. For traveling parents desperate to entertain their small children for a few hours, this is low-budget Six Flags.

Allow me to condense our two-hour layover into a 40-second clip, so that you might see how Laney spent her time in Denver:

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Dear Hagen,

Here's the 4 jillionth way you and your sister are different:

For almost 9 months, Laney had no interest in moving herself from one place to another. Like Elizabeth Taylor in "Cleopatra," she would have been perfectly happy to be carried everywhere for the rest of her life, thank you very much. 

Then there's you. 

At just over six months, there you were, hanging out in the Denver airport. Then, Laney laid out her new card game and told you not to touch it. And then this happened (I just happened to have my iPod on the floor when I noticed it. My iPod doesn't record sound any more, since your sister put it in the washing machine. If you're looking for other ways to differentiate yourself from your sister, might I suggest not putting my electronics in any water-based appliances?)

Love it. Love you.
Mom