Pane pain

The boys love planes. If you are outside with them for any period of time, undoubtedly you'll witness them gazing skyward.

'Go to the airport to see panes?!' H inquires hopefully every few hours. We rarely get a break in the inquires, even if we have just returned from a trip to the airport.

Take this morning. We arrive home from a morning spent watching planes from the beautiful observation lobby and H casually suggests to Dad that 'Affer nap, we go airport to see panes!!'

While at the airport, we do fun things like

1) speculate which parked airplanes will go high? 'Dat one go high! And that pane, that one go high, too!' And after dramatic pause, H (the voice of aeronautical authority) nods sagely, points to yet another parked plane and declares 'That pane get gas and then it goes HIGH!'

2) like to reminisce fondly of all the airplane rides H has taken and can remember (well that's basically one but it was a great one)

3) arguing as to when we go home. Mom: 'H, we're going to watch one more plane take off and then we're going home' Seemingly, a plane takes off every 40 minutes around that place... much waiting.... finally, I glimpse a plane coming down the runway, my scream for H to come look almost rivals that of Little E (who has an eagle eye when it comes to planes and a bullhorn cry of glee when he sees one). H: 'Where? Huh?' Catches glimpse of plane exhaust and speck of plane as it is hundreds of feet in the air. Mom: 'Okay H, that was the plane taking off let's go.' H: 'Nooooo. I want to see one more.'