The mom's group I'm a part of here in Columbus organized a tour of the Lifeline helicopter at our local hospital. I knew the arrow would LOVE to get up close to one of his favorite things: 'copters (as he calls them). I think it's pretty clear from the photos that I was right. And he loved it so much he didn't think any of the other kids should get to sit in it.
"MY 'COPTER! MY 'COPTER!"
That darn "my" word. It's like nails on a chalkboard to any mom of a toddler. Needless to say, we fled to the car as graciously as one can when a toddler is screaming bloody murder and beating his fists against you. (I'm not complaining. It's literally one of the first times I've ever had to leave someplace before we were ready because of a tantrum.)
Later that afternoon, while he was calmly eating a snack at home, he told me he thought he'd get to ride in the helicopter, that it would "go up high in the sky." So there may have been some confusion that led to this meltdown. Apparently I need to be a little more clear with him the next time I tell him we're going to see a helicopter.
I have no desire to ride in one of these. (And certainly not the kind used for medical purposes.) For starters, I'm pretty prone to motion sickness. And I once took a very scary, white-knuckle ride on a prop plane during a blizzard which has turned me away from small planes forever. So I'll take a mainstream commercial flight to get to my destinations in a heart beat.
But today I'm dreaming that someday the arrow will get to go on a helicopter ride. Maybe someplace beautiful, where he can spot volcanoes in Hawaii or glide above glaciers in Alaska. Or take in some breathtaking views of the New York City skyline. Wherever he chooses, I hope that helicopter finally gets off the ground for him. For now, we're working on that whole "sharing" thing.
This post is a part of Mondays are for Dreaming at The Mother of All Trips.