We're in Little Rock visiting my parents. I flew by myself. With all 4 kids. It was...horrific. The three older boys were only occasionally midly annoying, but that morphs into unbelievably provoking when you're holding a screaming, thrashing baby. The first flight was just difficult. Rand didn't sleep, but he had his own seat, so we managed. Then we had a three hour layover. Rand still wouldn't sleep in the stroller. Now I knew the first five minutes of the next flight would be ugly but figured he would pass out quickly. Then I found out it was overbooked and I would be holding Rand while managing boys in two different rows. The panic set in. About an hour into the flight, I realized that screaming, thrashing Rand would not be sleeping on an airplane this day. Somehow I managed to resist snatching the Jack Daniels the guy next to me was sipping. We all survived. Barely. I really wanted to make it Chris' fault, but unfortunately remembered this was my idea.
Chris recounted the events an unnamed, snarky family member.
Smarta$$: You know it's really important in football that your linebackers have short memories. That way when they see the huge guys they're facing, they can still say to themselves, "I can do it. I can take him." That's how Summer is with traveling with the boys. Six months from now, she'll decide to take them to Johannesburg by herself.