Evan - Flying on a Jet Plane

I'm picturing her walking through the airport this morning, on her way to meet her boyfriend, happy, excited, anxious.

She kissed us goodbye this morning, B first, before she went to school. "Have fun with your boy friend," B told her, in her innocent way, separating the words. Boy. Friend. That's what he was to her, a friend that was a boy. Innocent.

"I always do, sweetie, I always do."

I mimicked B half an hour later. "Have fun with your boyfriend," I said, not so innocent. Not a boy friend but a boyfriend. 

"I always do, sweetie, I always do." She looked down, I knew where her eyes went. "It's not fair, is it?" she asked.

"It...it's natural," I said. "He's your man, I'm your girl."

"My best girl," she said, kissing me.

"Be his best girl," I said.

"You're so kind to me," she said.

"It's kindness to myself, too," I said.

"I'll text or call when I can," she promised.

"I know," I kissed her again.

And so I sent my wife, the love of my life, off to a vacation with her boyfriend.