We went to Fairchild Air Force Base last weekend for the Air Show. I love old planes, and we thought Dawson would flip over all of the tankers and jets. As usual, the weather decided that since the Air Show was on the schedule, might as well be one of the hottest days of the summer. The show started at 9 in the morning, and we were there by 10, so we thought we'd beat the heat. The first hour was fine, but by noon it was so hot you could've fried an egg on your forehead and we were looking for the "emergency exit" on our little field trip from hell (actually, field trip in hell is more like it). I wish I had a picture of Dawson entering the Air Show. They had him stand spread eagle while they passed over him with the metal detector wand. The look on his face was priceless. I don't know if he's cut out for a career in the Armed Forces since they don't allow thumb suckers to wield guns, but if he did have any dream of it, it was squashed forever by that experience. Ella made her mark by climbing over the "caution" tape and trying to touch one of the planes literally seconds after we got inside. She seemed shocked that the yellow tape actually meant that she couldn't go past it. How dare they? So once we were in, priority numero uno was to see inside one of these awesome planes. We took turns looking inside with Ella and Dawson, the plane didn't have easy access for double strollers - how rude:) I really wanted to see the flight deck, and Todd wasn't interested in waiting in line, so I took the big kids and we waited, and waited...The inside of the metal fusilage started feeling more like the inside of a BBQ, so Dawson petered out. I flagged Todd down and we swapped out the crabby Ruffling. Well, he changed his mind yet again, so one of the guys I'd been chatting with offered to take Dawson back in, which was so sweet. So I caught a quick picture of him following the pilot up the stairs. I thought the "Tanker Pride" sign painted on the hanger was hilarious, I should've had a t-shirt that said that when I was pregnant with the twins. We strolled around some more, all the while spritzing the kids with the spray bottle and praying that the snacks I'd packed would keep us from a melt down, literally and figuratively. It became clear pretty quickly that I was sorely mistaken, and we made our official decision to hit the eject button. Just then a plane flew over and dropped about a dozen parachuters overhead! I was so excited that the kids got to see that before we left. Over all it was good, right up until it went very bad. I just love being on base, it reminds me of visiting my Uncle Dana - he flew on the P-3 Orion until retirement. Or maybe it's because I was born in an Army hospital on base so it's in my blood? Either way, I love the flag-lined streets, the patriotism that's thick in the air, the men in fatigues and uniforms (did I say that out loud?) - and where else can you trade a hello for a salute? 
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