It is no secret around my house that I absolutely abhor flying with Papa-T. I actually hate that Papa-T flies at all, especially with Nana and then sometimes Christian and Susan and Marty and other people that I love and care about in the plane with him. There are only two things I like about the fact that he flies:
1. It is a quick way for Nana and Papa-T to get to New Orleans for the weekend to visit La Luz.
2. It is a really cool hobby and something that Papa-T cares about very deeply.
My fear of flying with Papa-T dates back to my first and last time in the plane with him when he supposedly couldn't land the plane because of a cross-wind. I still don't know if he was kidding or serious but at this point it doesn't really matter because I will never get back in the plane with him, which is kind of sad for a variety of different reasons. Even though the practical side of me can understand that flying in the plane is safer than driving on the highway I can't wrap my head around the idea of climbing back in to the passenger seat or even not hyperventilating for the three or four hours that Nana and Papa-T are in the air when they travel to and from New Orleans.
La Luz, on the other hand, had her first taste of what it is like to be in the plane and was hooked. I guess it is in her blood.