Thanksgiving - The Wrap-Up

This will be my last post recounting my fun Thanksgiving vacation. I know, it's February, but I can't help wanting to share these stories with my vast readership.

My parents and I all had separate flight arrangements for flying in and out of Oakland. On the way there, my mom's flight time coincided with mine, and we each took one kid (my nephew Sean and neice Olivia). I got a lot of looks because Olivia is so cute, and she had a teddy backpack/stuffed animal with a leash, so I wouldn't lose her. She insisted on putting the teddy on her tummy instead of her back because she wanted to hold him. People were very nice to us.

On the way home, my dad and I were on the same flight and took the same two kids.

It was quite the production; a luggage cart, two car seats, a stroller, diaper bag and luggage. Once we checked in it was a bit easier, but we kept the luggage cart for all our carry-on stuff. It's impossible to push one kid in stroller, keep an eye on the 2-year old and carry all the stuff that two kids require.

We were in line for the security check. After the hassle of taking off the kids' shoes and dumping out the sippy cup (hazardous material, you know), I had a bottle of nail polish thrown away. Normally I would have protested, and probably kept the nail polish, but I was so tired of taking care of all the little things (plus I was pretty sick) and Olivia was ready to run down the hallway, that I let it go. I don't know how single mothers do it.

The entire time I was alone with my dad, we got some strange looks from people. My dad commented, "I don't know who they think worse of, you or me." I replied, "Both of us. You're the dirty old man and I'm the greedy twenty-something". We corrected many people who referred to my dad as the kids' father. It wasn't worth the effort to tell them they aren't my kids, either.

We flew Southwest. My dad, the savvy traveller, gave me some tips for getting a seat to myself on the plane. We loaded first, and I took an aisle seat toward the front of the cabin with two seats next to me. It was amazing how people saw the kid with me and walked by. One guy was about to sit down with his wife, saw Olivia, and said, "Never mind". It was somewhat comical. Some poor high school basketball player ended up in the window seat, and a nice older woman sat next to me.

Fortunately, the kids were incredibly well behaved. Sean slept most of the time, and Olivia charmed everyone she met.

Now I understand that the appearance of a 26 year difference between parents of young kids looks bad. But why do people assume the worst? Why is being a single mother so much better than being married to an older man? Our society is strange.