"Families with small children and anyone needing extra time may board at this time." When this announcement went out before our latest trip to Scotland, we all looked at each other uncertain for the first time. We'd been traveling abroad with small children for years, but now our youngest is five and a very capable traveler, more so than many adults I've seen.
Dinah looked at us and asked, "Am I small?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Let's see what happens."
Dinah bent over to make herself as small as possible, including doing her "small" voice, saying "I'm small" over and over all the way up. The gate agent gave me a funny look when he saw her coming. "Oh, she's being really small," was the best response I had, as if this were all perfectly normal.
Daniel later informed us that he likes to get really small, so small he collapses under chairs and other small spaces. I can't help but think of this Steve Martin bit about getting small. Wait, is he talking about something else? Maybe we should be concerned about this.
After about eight hours in the air, plus another hour by train to get from Glasgow to Edinburgh, all we wanted to do was sleep. We powered through the day the best we could to get one right time zone, but there is very little of note. To properly segue from our Italy trip, we found a Neapolitan pizza place. They put haggis on it here. Also, Dinah was enamored with all of the seagulls, calling them her “gull friends.” The real fun begins tomorrow.
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| Sleeping on a train. |
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| Telly time in a flat in Edinburgh |
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| A walk around the park and through the park |
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| No one ever orders #45. Not once EVER |
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