Can I brag for a minute? My Bird—THE Bird—was the best little traveler on our trip to Hilton Head last week. Three flights, ten total hours in the car, three different beds and a week in a beach house with six adults and no kids to play with and precious few toys and still. She was chipper and good-natured and cooperative. (Only one true meltdown and one major injury, both of which I will describe later.) She pee-peed in the scary/ stinky airplane potty and was perfectly happy to entertain herself with shells and toys when she needed quiet time in the house. She lavished attention right back at my parents and my brother and sister-in-law and was sweet and delicious and funny. She asked to be excused from the table, used her inside voice, and threw please and thank you around like a raquetball.
Not that two-year-olds should be held to adult standards or manners as a measure of good behavior. It’s not like I have a buttoned-up Yes-Ma’am kid. She’s a spirited little bird and a powerful little joy-force that may or may not be wearing clothes at any given moment. But she is so agreeable, so generous, so thoughtful and of such a pleasant disposition. She’s so much fun to be around, and I am more grateful than I can describe to have had a full, uninterrupted week of her silly, loving company.