A non-insane flight time means a relatively normal morning in terms of pace and earliness. We deviate from our usual routine at 7:30, when we four give our goodbye kisses, Amy heads out of the house with Aaron to his school, and I head out of the house with Jada to the bus stop a block and a half away. The bus arrives just as we get there, whisking us a mile and a half east, where we hoof it two more blocks to 30th Street Station.
We're way early, and so I should've checked my wallet and learned earlier that I had misplaced my train ticket so I could've bought another one. Instead, I realized this as the train was pulling up. So I had to burn another one-way ticket I had in my pocket, plus fork over a few bucks. Now I'm wondering where I put that original train ticket.
No mind. Soon enough we are at the airport. And then the minor mishaps continue. I forget that a portable DVD needs its own security bin; having it shoved in Jada's backpack requires a special look-see and a second screening. Then I am told I'm at the wrong gate, and will have to take a shuttle to the right one. Luckily, we have plenty of time, the shuttle arrives just as we do, and soon enough we're in the right place.
We board our Southwest flight for the first of a three-legged journey: same flight, same plane, but with stops in Denver and Los Angeles. This drags the day out considerably, although on the bright side we get 20-minute stretch breaks to break the day up. Jada toggles between playing with her Barbies, drawing, looking at her sticker book, and watching movies on the portable DVD player. I power through a big stack of work-related papers I've left piling up for the past six months.
After peeing and leaving our footprints in both Denver and Los Angeles, we finally arrive in San Jose and are picked up by my dad. We hit the grocery store on the way home to get yogurt and frozen chicken nuggets for Jada, and then arrive home to see my mom. Jada is very shy at first, and partly she's probably pretty worn out too. But talking through the pictures she drew for her Ama opens her up a bit. My dad coaxes a photo op out of Jada in the backyard, of her picking the season's last peach off the peach tree. Soon enough, it's time for bath, dinner, bedtime stories, and light's out. Early for California, but late for us. Zzzzzz.