Sophie has started planning a lot lately.  After we told her we were going to Chili’s for lunch, for example, she announced that she’d be getting soup.  Then she began checking up on our dining plans periodically during the car ride there:

“Sophie get soup?”  Yep!  “Ben get soup?”  No, I want to get chicken.

Then a little later:

“Sophie get soup?”  Yep!  “Ben get chicken?”  Yep!

This tactic apparently lets her formulate her own plans based on ours.  At bedtime on Friday night, for instance, she checked up on our evening plans:

Sophie:  Mommy go night night?
Mommy:  Yep!  Mommy’s going night night.
Sophie:  Ben go night night?
Ben:  Yep!  Ben’s going night night.
Sophie: (decisively) Sophie watch Pooh!

At least now we know what she does after everyone else is asleep.

On August 15th, at 6:18 pm, I stepped off the escalator into the terminal building at Denver International Airport.  The moment I turned the corner I saw a pink Sophie-shaped blur streaking toward me at her fastest possible speed carrying a gleeful grin and delivering an enormous hug.  That alone would have been worth the trip.

Then at 6:39 pm, as we sped down Peña Boulevard out of the airport, Sophie asked from the back seat, “Ben goes back home now?”

Apparently, even after all the excitement in advance of my visit, she would have been perfectly happy with a 21 minute appearance.

Of course, this did nothing to lessen her reaction as we sped back down Peña Boulevard on the return trip.  The moment the terminal drifted into view she adopted the same facial expression one would use after being slapped hard in the face and then kicked repeatedly in the shin.

An obviously fake yet earnest attempt at crying then lasted until we pulled up to the curb.  That’s when she changed tactics.  She just refused all offers of a hug goodbye, and to ward off any possibility of a goodbye kiss she even covered her mouth with her hand.

It turns out 21 minutes isn’t long enough after all, but I definitely feel appreciated