Talkin' Shit About A Pretty Sunset

Yesterday I decided to teach my 9-month-old boy about airplanes -- close up. There's a small park in northern Virginia called Gravelly Point right next to National Airport where you can lie on the grass and watch the jet airplanes fly right overhead before they land. They seem so close that you could throw a rock at them.

We spread out our blanket on the grass to wait and he seemed happy. We played with his toys for a minute before the first plane came toward us, its massive jet engines revving.

I forgot how loud it is and the first one came over and Elliot just watched it, following the plane with his eyes and looking confused. Then he went back to playing and looked like this:



The second one came, and again, the confused look.

But when the third one came, the little guy got scared! It's so sad and pitiful to see your baby get scared and I felt like a bad father.

As soon as the engines roared that third time and he spotted the jet coming our way, he crawled real fast across the blanket toward me and just lunged into my lap, hugging me and looking frightened.

I packed up our things and left immediately.