When I was Four, I accompanied my mom on a trip back to Midwest to visit family. These were back in the good old days of flying, when airlines actually had customer service and didn't treat you like Cattle. The stewardess asked me if I'd like to meet the pilot during the flight and I went up to the cockpit. The pilot gave me a pair of wings and showed me the controls, then he asked me if I'd like to be a stewardess when I grew up? I responded with, "No way! I want to be the Pilot."
Over the summer, we had the opportunity to take this Cessna out for a spin. I'm terrified of flying, but always wanted to learn how to fly a plane. I'm complicated like that. There is something about being able to be in control of the plane, that took all the fear right out of me. I was able to relax and enjoy myself the whole time.
We flew out over the Channel Islands on a spectacularly clear day. I got a quick lesson and then took over the controls for most of the flight.
I think I want to ask Santa for an airplane for Christmas. It was amazing to be able to fly through the air. Maybe the Chalet needs a runway in the back instead of a pool.
I took these guys with me, much to Mr. Man's dismay. They LOVED it, and when we did dips and steep climbs, they would scream, "AGAIN! AGAIN! Do it Again!"
At the end of the flight, AK said, "Next time let me fly it, Ok?"