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Up, Up and Away!

Since Chuckles has his private pilot’s license, one of the perks of being married to him is that sometimes, if you’re a good girl and eat all your vegetables and don’t throw a tantrum in public that day, he’ll take you flying.

And yesterday was just such a day.  He’d come back home Saturday night after spending the last three weeks in California for work, so we decided to take advantage of a perfect blue-sky, 60-degree Sunday afternoon to head out to Frederick Municipal Airport and take the Cessna Skyhawk for a spin.

To me, it’s always a great opportunity to sing flying-themed songs and make totally hilarious Airplane! references.

Which is probably why I don’t get to go flying more often.

Anyhoo, this is how it usually goes:  First, Chuckles does a pre-flight inspection to make sure nothing important like the wings or prop fall off mid-flight.  ‘Cause how embarrassing would that be, right?

Keep up the good work there, buddy.

“Hmm, the passenger door latch appears to be broken.  Good thing that’s not my side.  Heh-heh.”

Next, Chuckles puts on his Serious Pilot Face and commences to fiddlin’ with lots of knobs and switches and button, all while trying to explain to me what each one does.  You know, just in case we’re ever in an emergency situation where I have to land the plane by myself.

Riiight.  Appreciate the effort, but I’m thinking “Scream bloody murder until we crash broadside into a barn” is going to be my go-to emergency landing strategy.

And away we go!

And it’s usually at this point that I realize I really have to pee.

“Seriously?  Now? You’re just going to have to hold it, sister.”

And then I make a mental note to invest in a Shenis.  [Warning: Link slightly NSFW, unless your boss is cool with you scoping out pics of giant gold phalluses (phalli?) on company time when you’re supposed to be filing TPS reports or whatever.]

And we’re off!

Views of Frederick…

From this distance, I bet I could totally spit on that silo.

“Can you fly this plane, and land it?”
“Surely you can’t be serious.”
“I am serious… and don’t call me Shirley.”

Hah, I slay myself.