Father’s Day weekend and the out of state wedding we attended were perfect, as of course was I (Littlest Mikey). We drove to Burbank Airport Friday morning, which is nice because it’s close and small, and only had a bit of grumpiness when they took my shoes off and took away my sippy cup at security for thirty seconds, because I look so shifty. We hung around the gate with our friend Stan, Chris, and Robert who were also going to the wedding, and I smiled at all the folk waiting for the plane who were doubtlessly thinking, “Oh, a baby on the plane. I do hope he sits near us!”
The first flight was about two hours from Burbank to Salt Lake City. I cried for a moment as we walked across the runway to the small plane and it roared in a scary way, but that didn’t last long. I am not used to being held on a lap for two hours, so I squirmed between the two laps I had available and ate and ate and ate, and sometimes I played with the food boxes, or the tray table, or the window shade (where I learned two new words “Up” and “Down”). Then we had a short layover in Salt Lake City and moved into a smaller propeller plane. I tried to stay awake for the hour flight to Sun Valley, but much to everyone’s disappointment, I fell asleep.
When I woke up, we were on the shuttle to our hotel, the Sun Valley Lodge. Our room wasn’t ready, so first we were put in a room which could only be reached up a long flight of stairs. When Papa Ian complained that such a room wouldn’t do for a baby in a stroller, they moved us to another room on the ground floor. This room had a lovely view of the lodge ice rink, but when Papa Ian called to ask what time the shows were and whether they were loud, we were moved again and upgraded to the best room in the hotel, the parlor suite with two balconies and a separate living room. Something about a squeaky wheel, which I very seldom am, myself.
That night we went to a pre-wedding dinner at a restaurant, where I had lamb for the first time. Many people said I was cute and well-behaved, so that must be true. We left just before dessert at 9:30, and I fell asleep in the crib the hotel provided without any protesting.
The next morning, we went off in search of a restaurant in the “village” of shops attached to the lodge, but ended up returning back to the hotel where I was a little grumpy and didn’t want to wear my bib and occasionally things were thrown to the floor. The ‘rents need to remember to feed me first, then go exploring, right? After that, I went back to normal angel mode as we found a playground on the property and did swings and slides for an hour or two. We went back to the room for my mid-day nap, but I was too excited about seeing more of the town to sleep, so after a while, they plopped me in my stroller and walked a mile down the road to Ketchum. We’ll have to send you some pics and videos of the walk, because it’s all that snowy mountain, big vista, big clouds, “God country” good stuff. Anyhow, I fall asleep in the stroller apparently, but two hours later, I wake up and they have visited Hemingway’s grave, run into some other wedding guests, and we’re out eating burgers and chowder.
Then we had to spit spot back to the hotel, and get dressed up for the wedding. My dads wore black tie and I wore the seersucker suit my grandma sent me, which was a mite too big when I tried it on a couple weeks ago, but fit as if tailored now. (I learned a new word at this moment, “Ready,” as in “Are we ready?” “Ready!”) The shuttle took us to Lindsley’s stepmother’s ranch. Huge place. The ceremony was in the barn, the reception was at the guest house, and the dinner was in a tent down the hill. Someday when I come back, I might get to see the house itself which apparently down on the river. I was a little shy and frowny around the crowd at first, but by the time dinner was served, I was running across the dance floor, from table to table to tell people “Hi” and be the official greeter. If the bride was miffed that I was getting more attention than she was, she didn’t show it. I hope my life continues to be like that tent, filled with people who love me. I learned the word “moon” after pointing to the night sky. I finally fell asleep in my stroller at about 11:30, just in time for the first shuttle back to the lodge, and a little past the time when I got to see Papa Ian do the Macarena.
I slept in late, but we still had to spit spot to get all packed up and Daddy Ted left his cell phone charger behind and Papa Ian left his Kindle charger behind (they discovered hours later back in El Lay when they unpacked). We took the shuttle to the brunch at a country club where there was a bagpiper who frightened me when he came in and when he left, since I was right near the door, and he sounded like a dozen cats going backwards through a vacuum cleaner. We went back to the lodge, and after another walk around in my stroller, I fell asleep until the shuttle came to take us to the airport.
The security folk in Sun Valley Airport take their jobs very seriously, and were very thorough in searching my diaper bags. They tested all my food to make sure my bananas and hot dogs weren’t bombs, patted Papa Ian down for looking shifty (which is how he looks when he’s annoyed), and then I got annoyed at my Osh-Kosh straps until we unsnapped one, Huckleberry Finn style and I was okay. I loved my window seat which had a view of the propeller, which looks a bit like my ceiling fan at home which makes me go, “Ooooh!” whenever it’s on.
In Salt Lake City again, I didn’t want to be in the stroller as we walked to our connecting flight, so I held Daddy Ted’s hand and ran so we wouldn’t miss it. Daddy Ted was impressed with my speed and it wasn’t until I suddenly began going slowly that he looked down and discovered that I had lowered my second Osh-Kosh strap and was going as fast as I could with my pants around my ankles. I don’t think Salt Lake City had seen the like before.
I didn’t sleep on the plane, but continued to eat and play and play peek-a-boo with fellow passengers, including some of the wedding guests. On the landing to Burbank, I pulled at my ears a bit and whimpered, but that’s the only time the pressure seemed to bother me. We drove back home, said hi to the cat (who I call “Dat”) and went to sleep after a bit of protest.
Today, back to some routine, playing in the park (when I wake up – it’s 8:30, and I’m still asleep), then social workers come at 3, swim class at 5:30.
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1 comment:
Whatta story. That Littlest Mikey shows real writing promise.
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