Every time we fly, I expect the worse. I guess it's all those years that I was a consultant and spent 10-15 hours per week on a plane. I saw, heard, felt, and wanted to murder more than my fair share of kids who thought that the best time to be the ringleader of a three ring circus was while trapped inside a tiny cabin with 50+ other passengers. Kids + me + airplanes = homicidal tendencies.

We have flown with Alexis a handful of times and each time has been the same; strangely OK. I over-prepare with bags full of snacks and toys and movies and coloring books and hammers (in case the toys and snacks don't work, I could just bonk the kid over the head and knock her out for a bit). I stress for weeks before a flight about how the heck I'm going to keep her happy in that tiny little space. I fidget once we are on the plane, and get myself all sorts of worked up worrying that Alexis is going to suddenly turn into Linda Blair.

Then she goes and disappoints me. This time she did it by peacefully watching Linkin Park in concert on one iPod while listening to Imagination Movers on another (don't get me started on why I have two iPods--it makes me head explode to think about it). Then I had to try to sabotage world peace because after 20 minutes of the kid watching Chester drop the f*bomb, I started to wonder if she could read lips (after all, what 3-year old can't?). So I ixnayed the Linkin Park and whipped out her portable DVD player, turned off the iPod, and didn't even give her a choice in which movie she wanted to watch. ASKING FOR TROUBLE.

She responded by gleefully watching Enchanted and not even caring that it's wasn't the crappy Disney Princess movie she picked out the day before "for watching on the airplane."

Of course I couldn't just let the kid just be happy, so I whipped out a coloring book and crayons. Alexis responded by coloring the love-child created when Cookie Monster and Zoe had an affair. Alexis named her "Anna." I may have been mostly responsible for the story of how she came to be.

Since none of that worked to convince the kid she should turn into a Tasmanian Devil on the airplane, I figured I would just go and write about it while we are still a 2-hour plane ride away from home.

Why not just write Karma a personal note asking for trouble?

I have to be out of my mind.