frequent flyer

So the last-minute minibreak was Big Fun.

We went to the beach we always go to and I laid out at the reef club while Dad et al went on a scenic drive.

Traveling with family was the real Big Fun. I hadn't flown with my parents (or siblings for that matter) since I was sixteen when we split up in Atlanta (me for Madrid, them for West Palm).

I had this idyllic childhood with what might possibly be the Most Creative Mother Ever.

No, seriously.

She worked for Eastern Airlines (remember them?) so we could fly anywhere in the country for free or virtually free.

So while other mothers arranged outings to the local zoo or park, Mom would plan trips to the Brooklyn Zoo or the San Diego Park.

It would go like this:

She would pack a small carry-on with clothes for both of us that would work in any climate: bathing suits, sweaters, dresses, shorts, pants, etc.

Then she would drive us to the aiport, take me by the hand, and say, "Sheila, where do *you* want to go today?"

Then she'd read the names off the departures screen and I'd pick one.

And that's where we'd go.

betholindo at 4:39 p.m.

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