Quick, before I get Sidetrack'd

We’ve spent the last few months, and especially the last few weeks, trying to prepare Little for all of the new things she would experience on vacation.  We covered the airplane – pointing out planes in the sky, talking about how we would go way up high, really talking it up.  We covered the beach – talking about the sand, the big water, all the fun things we would do.  We covered our living arrangements – talking about the condo, who all would be there, where we would sleep.  I thought we had covered everything.  I was wrong.

I failed to consider the shuttle bus.

We parked our car in an off-site covered parking lot, so we had to ride a shuttle from the lot to the airport.  The bus pulled up behind our car while we were unloading the luggage, and Little stopped dead in her tracks.

“School bus hurt.”

“No, baby, the school bus won’t hurt you.  It is just waiting to take us to the airport to ride the airplane.”

“No want to ride school bus.”

“But we have to ride the bus, sweetie.  It isn’t scary; it will be fun.”

She stood perfectly still clutching dee and asking to be held while we got the bags and carseats from the car into the shuttle.  When it was time to board the bus she flatly refused.  Matt carried her on and sat her in his lap.

We drove a little ways through the parking lot and then stopped to pick up another couple.  As soon as the doors opened Little said, “get off now.”  We explained that we couldn’t get off, that we had to stay on until we got to the airport.  We drove a little farther around the lot and stopped again.  Little said, “get off now.”  The lady from the first stop chuckled a little, and I said, “this could be an interesting day.”

We were successful in keeping her on the bus until we reached the airport at which point she gladly disembarked.

Now what does she answer when you ask her favorite part of going to the airport?  Riding the “bumpy, bumpy bus.”

Go figure.