Eight months.

It’s like Jack is constantly an audience member of a really funny stand-up comedy show when he is around people.  No matter who he encounters, he assumes that because they are standing there in front of him, or even 15 feet across from him while looking in his general direction, that they are evidently doing something hilarious and therefore worth cracking up over.

Sunday afternoon as I was holding all our luggage and Jill was holding Jack, waiting in line to check into our flight to leave Sacramento, I noticed a married couple laughing at Jack, who evidently, had been laughing at them.  It’s nearly impossible not to laugh at Jack when he smiles real big and chuckles at you when you’re not even trying.

Later, a woman who saw the three of us waiting near her at the departure gate asked Jack, “Are you flirting with me? You’re just too easy to make laugh, aren’t you?”

Fortunately, Jack really enjoyed the short, hour-long flight from Sacramento to Phoenix, unlike the flight from Nashville to Denver, then from Denver to Sacramento.  I’d have to say that he took advantage of all the entertaining people sitting behind and beside us.

Jack just loves a good laugh.  His sense of humor is enormous; for the simple fact that the only thing that’s not funny to him is going to sleep.

So yes, our flight back home to Nashville was obviously much better and less eventful than the flight to Sacramento.  Unless you consider being frisked in the name of security uneventful.  It just so happened to be that as we passed through the TSA checkpoint in Sacramento, Jill was randomly selected for a pat-down search.  I’m sure that was awkward for her; I know it was for me.

On our final flight from Phoenix to Nashville, we ended up sitting in a row in front of two young boys and their grandmother.  There were essentially no rules for these youngsters regarding how to behave in public, much less, on a plane.

As Jill and I desperately tried all the tricks we could muster to help Jack go to sleep during take off and ascension (or at least not scream at the top of his lungs), the boys behind us repeatedly kicked our seats and had screaming contests to see who could make the highest pitch squealing noise.  Sure, they were sporadically threatened by their parental figure with “you’re gonna get a spanking if you don’t stop,” but needless to say, they’ve heard that one a thousand times and have never seen it followed through.

I’m not officially endorsing spanking in this post; but I am officially endorsing the respecting of the couple sitting in front of you who finally got their infant to sleep after an hour of trying with all their might, who are sitting on eggshells hoping that nothing wakes him up.  Fortunately, Jack was so tired that he never flinched. Even if I was cringing the entire flight.

The three of us safely made it back to Nashville late Sunday night and I went in to a full day of work the next morning, on five hours of sleep.  But the trip was definitely worth it, as future posts about our experiences there will show within the next week or so.

Unnecessary and Dreadful Bonus!

I had set out in my mind to go to In-N-Out Burger while I was in Sacramento, so I did.  And it was every bit as good as I knew it would be.  But something very odd happened while I was there and I was the only one to witness it- therefore I feel compelled to share it with the blogosphere.

Last Friday morning I woke up with a headache.  So in an effort to “waterlog” it, I drank about two liters of water before leaving the house.  By the time I got to In-N-Out Burger, I had just enough to time to make it to the restroom.  It was crowded in there, but there was an available stall right there near the doorway.

By the time I opened the stall door to exit, I heard a man screaming hysterically like he was on fire. Naturally, it freaked me out.  He looked like Borat, but my height. And by this point, he and I were the only ones left in the restroom.

Now that I finally got a glimpse at the guy, I saw that his pants were around his ankles as he yelled nonsensical noises while looking at the mirror.

Then he saw me head over to the door to leave.  He continued screaming but as he looked at me, he pulled down his boxer shorts too.  That was the last image burned in my memory before I was able to make it out into the main restaurant with normal civilization. By the time I ate my delicious burger and fries and was ready to leave, I needed to visit the restroom again.

Needless to say, I didn’t.