Don't have a recollection of my first plane ride. May be because I took that flight at the tender age of six months. Later in life I had many rides I remember well. Annie flew for the first time at a much older age than myself, her hall of flight memory, nine. I like that she experienced it at nine. I tell her all the time that this is her final year of being a single digit. Never ever again will her age only contain a spot for one number.The thought of it saddens me, but also brings to mind the next few years of being a pre-teen. Not feeling old enough to do anything, feeling too old to do some things and yet wishing all the while to be a teenager. Or at least...that's how I remembered it.
Her first flight, that of one hour and fifteen minutes into Denver went without any surprises. Of course, though on a normal lift off, you get that usual rumbling sound. Except it doesn't feel usual when it's your first time. Annie's eyes widened, her tiny hands gripped the arm rests and she peered deep into my eyes for the reassuring look of comfort. Finding it, she relaxed and witnessed for the first time the ground below her growing minuscule through a tiny window.
She inquired ahead of time of many people what she should expect and how she could prepare for the plane ride. Some offered the advice of chewing gum to alleviate ear clogging problems. Of course, armed with that nifty piece of advice...she repeatedly asked me if I remembered to bring gum.
Another told her that she would need coinage in order to use the bathroom, but that may be she shouldn't use the bathroom for the fear of it sucking her out the plane. Annie decided against using the facilities and passed up a soda in order to prevent the need for a bathroom trip.
Did I mention how the princess loves to be prepared and plan well?
