And I'll bet you didn't even notice that I was gone. But I was.
Sure, I was a good Mamarazzi contributor; I posted my Friday entry from the funny antiquated desktop in the lobby of the funny antiquated hotel I was staying in, but for a couple of days, that was pretty much all there was going on between you and me, Internet.
I flew out of Chicago Thursday morning, rented a car, checked into my hotel, dinner meeting, talk talk talk, all day meeting the next day, talk talk talk, drive like crazy person back to airport, get stuck in Southwest's "C" line.
Yuck. Exhausted. Fried. Just wanted to sit on the plane and read my book.
I got an aisle seat (yay!) on the aisle in a three-seat row. The other seats were taken up by a beautiful 15-month old girl and her mother, who was busy feeding her little chunks of ham, peas, and corn from a Rubbermaid container.
I guess a lot of business travelers steer clear of rows with children, but not me. Within about a minute of my first "Hi! Aren't you a cutie!" Sarah held out her tiny chubby fist. She was offering me a pea.
Now all you Purell-carrying germ-o-phobes might shudder, but I took it, said "Thank you!" in my best talking-to-toddler voice, and ate it, evincing pleasure like something off the Food Network.
In Jack and the Beanstalk, we learned about magic beans. Well, this was a magic pea. I felt better instantly.
Of course, Sarah, seeing what she had wrought, continued to offer me peas, but really, I'm not a glutton for magic. A little bit, from time to time, at irregular intervals, suits me right down to a