My daughter Ava declared last night that she’s a country girl. What? You live in Austin, Texas, in a very suburban neighborhood. You have never baled hay or milked a cow. How could you be a country girl?
In her mind she is. You see last night was a night of many firsts. We flew to Pittsburgh to get her some specialized medical care. It was the first time she had had to take more than one flight to get somewhere. (We’d always made a point when they were little to go nonstop and she’s never been to a place where we couldn’t go nonstop.) She asked questions like: do we have to go to security again? Do we have to get our bags to put them on the other plane? Do we get the same seats? All relevant questions, but they took me aback. I’ve flown for so long, that I never think about those things. She’s also 11, so I thought we had travel down by now.
When we got here, we had to go to a train to get to the baggage claim. That was also a new experience for her and she was quite excited about it. And, of course, we walked out to see about 6-inches of snow on the ground. Wow! She has plans to build a snowman very soon and she’s, of course, singing that song from “Frozen” a lot.