While visiting relatives, the people packed me up for a loooong car drive. If they had explained that planes were involved, I might have been more cooperative in transport.
We walked around and saw everything, thanks to my speedy stroller driving (no Lily inside!), not thanks to my dad's snail pace of reading and discussing every little rivet and propeller.
I got very close to lots of big planes. A little too close sometimes...I'm my father's son and like to look in turbines and test moving parts.
Inside the famous spruce goose, I mostly liked the beach balls used for floatation.
Just like dad taught me, I touched what I could before the guards noticed. I mean, they cut away key parts of the engine to show the inards...basically begging folks to prod it.
Mom was hip and cool since she doesn't have a giant belly anymore. She flew a plane with me.
Flying and dreaming of being an astronaut like daddy. We're planning on going to Mars together.
A few days later, my parents went on the Boeing tour without me. Apparently midgets can go, but not children under 4 feet because I'm considered potential "FOD" (foreign object debris) or something. So my parents got me a memento which I guess will suffice.
Mostly it never leaves my side now, even for breakfast.
Off to catch a flight! Blast off!
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