We flew to California last Thursday night and, once again, I proved to be a most excellent traveler. I sat in between mom and dad for 2 hours and didn't make a peep - was content to just read and watch videos on my DVD player. Towards the end of the flight I figured out that a little girl was sitting in front of mommy, and I spent the last 20 minutes of the flight PLASTERED up between our seats trying to talk to her. I loved little Emma, and asked her a hundred questions: "Whatcha doin, Emma?" "Whatcha talkin 'bout, Emma?" "What's that, Emma?". When we finally parted at the airport, I yelled after her "Have a good day, Emma!" - and turned to mommy and said "She's a sweet girl, momma." Needless to say, Mommy's jaw almost hit the floor.
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