Mr. Nielson becomes Mr. Pilot Private Nielson on Wednesdays.
Around 4:00, the father of our home
flies around Mesa in a tiny airplane.
The best part of Wednesdays for me is when he flies over the house.
Somedays we go to the airport to watch him
maneuver some pretty cool take-offs and landings.
Today, we watched him soar above us in the car as Gigs screamed in his car seat.
When the family showed up, Mr. Nielson was doing the "pre-flight checklist"
He has to look at a bunch of things to ensure he won't crash.
You know, make sure there is gas and important stuff like that.
The girls take advantage of the pre-flight check time because then
they can get in the airplane and pretend
they are flying over an enchanted forest
and through colorful rainbows.
But today, after a few minutes of playing nice,
they started fighting over who got the headset
and whose name got to be "Kalee."
That was our cue to start packing up.
Then, like magnets, the girl's hands joined together, and they were off
to
pretend some other imaginative story or adventure, forgetting
that only seconds earlier, they were in a fight.
I love them.
(And NO, Mom, Mr. Pilot Private Nielson didn't crash.)
In fact, my heart swelled nice and big as I watched him soar in the sky.
He is fulfilling a 29-year-old dream.
Did I ever tell you about when Mr. Nielson was six and
ate bird seeds because he thought he'd grow wings and fly away?
He was made for this.
I am so happy for him.
