worth it

Someone please tell me what it is about flying on an airplane that totally screws up your internal, um, workings. I mean, seriously. What is it? It certainly couldn't be the totally delightful egg and cheese bisquit (only 99 cents!) I scarfed down at the airport Wendy's. And definitely not the homemade oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies I ate in my parent's truck on our 90-minute trip to their house from the airport. I'm also ruling out the cheeseburger I ate sometime shortly after that. I mean, come on, those are perfectly normal meals! I blame the AIRPLANE.

We are here, at my parents' place, lovingly embraced by homecooked meals, toys that have been passed down and played with by literally hundreds of giddy children, and blankets that remind me of being twelve. It's good to be here.

However. Grammy's house is not Alice-proof. So not even close to Alice-proof. In the last fourteen hours I have:

- Reminded Alice that WE DON'T EAT DOG FOOD. x 20 instances
- Pulled chunks of bark out of Alice's kung fu grip. x 8 instances
- Reminded Alice that WE DON'T EAT BARK. x 6 instances.
- Removed bits of bark debris from Alice's mouth. x a lot of instances.
- Yelled DON'T STICK YOUR HAND IN THERE. x 10 instances.
- Unplugged the upstairs stereo.
- Unplugged several lamps.
- Relocated two vases.
- Moved two framed pictures from table tops to dresser tops.
- Yelled SERIOUSLY DON'T STICK YOUR HAND IN THERE. x 4 instances.
- Sang the Popcorn Popping song solo, much like a performing monkey, with family members looking on, because my child loves this song, and will normally do all the little hand signals that go with the song, but because she is being watched she clearly does not want to perform. SING, MAMA, SING! x 3 instances.
- Been so happy to see Alice exploring, getting to know her Grammy and Grampy. x more instances than I can count.