Things like this keep me sane

I'm currently embroiled in a training session in Kansas City, but thought I'd write a quick entry to prove my continued existence. So here's a little story:

I took the kids to see the movie Madagascar during my trip to Texas last month. My dislike of Plano has long reached the saturation point, making me keenly aware of examples of the entitlement and rudeness I associate with the people who live there. It's picky stuff in general - an SUV driver parking in the middle of two spaces or a group of adults walking 4 abreast at the mall not feeling the need to get out of the way so that my son can pass by - but what happened at the theater was beyond the pale.

The kids and I found good seats and, typically, had a family of Johnny-come-latelys sit directly behind us just before the beginning of the trailers despite the wide availability of glorious stadium seating. Shortly after the movie started, I turned around to notice that the female caretaker of the nasty brood behind us had her bare feet resting on the top of my daughter's chair!

Repulsive! Rude! Unsanitary! AHHHHH!

So I began giving her a Death Gaze, but she was too wrapped up in the subtle nuances of David Schwimmer's performance to notice. (Well, that, and the line-of-sight provided by the theater's tiered arrangement wasn't ideal for glaring.)

Here's where I decided to "Keep it Real". Instead of a whispered plea for the removal of her smelly peds, I thought it would be better to put a small quantity of saliva on my index finger and flick it onto the soles of her feet. Even this tactic proved fruitless, though, but thankfully her thighs must have fallen asleep at the halfway mark, because she finally stopped being a filthy wildebeest and put her vile hooves back on the floor. (They returned later on, but at least this time they were besandaled.)

That was a lot of build-up for the moment that preceded this whole incident that still makes me smile to this day, and (in all sincerity) helped restore my hope for humankind. On the way to the theater, we stopped at Nordstrom's cafe at which I bought some coffee and juice. Seeing how it would have to be smuggled into the theater, the barista offered a bag with which I could camouflage the contraband.

We started heading toward the movie when Catherine saw me fumbling with the plastic sack. She looked up at me and with a huge smile on her face asked, "What's in the bag, yo?"

Reading back, I realize what a "had to be there" experience it was. Still, I was feeling surly about the world, and hearing her quote an obscure Homestar Runner cartoon from months ago with such impeccable timing made me roar with laughter in the middle of the mall. Seeing me lose it made her and Brady break out into a giggle fit, as well.

It's hard to relate how much that moment meant to me, but I hadn't seen them for 2 months and it was good to feel like a Dad again.

I miss them. One more month.