Homeward Bound

So its Sunday morning, and the last morning of our little adventure. I'm sound asleep (quick aside, our routine in Belize was that Sander would wake up, wander into my room and we'd lie there and talk about the day before and what we wanted to do that day-just a great beginning to each day. I mean, things would have to epically bad to ruin that start) when I hear him stirring around excitedly. Holy smokes, I totally forgot it was Easter Sunday!

Well, apparently the Easter Bunny didn't because he came. The Easter Bunny's a he right? That's the way I remember it, but it sure seems like the Easter Bunny should be a girl. What with the eggs and all the pastel colors. But only a guy would give out candy to start the day. Tough one. I need a ruling on this. Anyway, the Easter Bunny showed up with candy and toys, plus the Easter Bunny hid plastic eggs around the hotel room for Sander to find (until I get a ruling, I'm forced to write "Easter Bunny" instead of he or she, please hurry). So Sander went a huntin' plastic eggs. That's Sander with his loot in the first picture. I know he's my boy, but you cannot possibly tell me that's not the cutest picture you've ever seen, totally blows away the "Hang in there" kitten. So we eat our breakfast (and, OK, for breakfast we had Reeses Peanut Butter Easter Eggs and leftover milk. But we figured it was a special occasion.), and ride the massive sugar buzz all the way to the airport.

We arrive at the airport, no security check point, no one weighs our bags (didn't love that actually) and get our boarding passes. What does a boarding pass look like in Belize you ask? Why naturally they're laminated green cards that say, appropriately, "Boarding Pass." In case you think I'm making this up, there's Sander holding our boarding passes (his idea for the shot by the way). Green for Belize International Airport, Red for some other airport. I'm also including another picture we took for no other reason than I thought it was hilarious. And one last shot of our "air port." That's Master Cat Burglar Sander thwarting their iron clad security and breaking our final international law.

And here's where I have to launch my one complaint for the trip. We have an 11.30 flight, and the hotel tells us we need to leave the hotel by 7.30 to make the 8.00 flight to the mainland. OK, cool. But it only takes 15 minutes to fly from our Island to the Belize International Airport. So we show up at 8.15, head to the counter to only find no one there. However, we do find a sign that says that the counter will open at 9.30. Sander, the world traveler that he is, quickly picks up on the fact that this is a first for us. I thought airports were like casinos, they're always open, and there's always some nice lady working behind the check-in counter. Not so, I guess. But my question is this? Why were we there over an hour before the counter even opens? Surely our hotel knows this, right? Plus, everything else in Belize was sooooo laid back. Our guides kept saying things like, "oh the trip out to 'X' takes a Belezian hour." Which I immediately loved. See, back where I'm from we have a concept called "Greek Time" which we invoke anytime we're late for anything, "oh, hey, we're running Greek Time" and all's forgiven. Heck, if people know you, they may invoke it for you, "Where's Jason, he's late? Oh, he's probably running Greek Time." In retrospect, maybe its not so surprising that Greece is no longer the most importantly nation in the world. I'm telling you, Belizian boat people are my peeps, we understand each other. But back to the point, why are we there THREE hours before our flight? Heck, DFW only asks for two, and they have things like crowds, lines, cars, security, 17,000 destinations, and planes. By way of example, our security screening at the airport was us walking through a metal detector that may, or may not, be a prop. Followed by the security guy asking if there was a laptop in my backpack that just went through the X-Ray machine, leading to this exchange. Nice security man, "Was there a laptop in your bag?" Me, "Oh, jeeze. Yes. Sorry. Do you need to rerun it through the machine?" Split second pause, and a slight headshake, "Na." And he hands it to me. And here's where I give my own catch and release, "you just want me to let it go?" look, and amble off.

But since getting there early is really just not that a big deal, Sander and I hang out in the airport eating a second breakfast of Doritos and Snickers (they really satisfy). And unless you speculate that I'm completely worthless as a father, I made him drink orange juice instead of Sprite. I know, I'm a total tyrant, but I do believe in rules. What?

Speaking of the Good Dad/Bad Dad debate that's been raging since we started this little journey, I humbly ask that you review the pics from the final few days. Go ahead, I'll wait. Doo, de doo. Ok, what do you notice? Yes, he's very cute, but besides that? OK, yes, I'm and awesome photographer. Besides that? That's right folks, no sunburn! HA! Eat that Mr. Jason's clueless. Final check mark goes into the "Good Dad" column. I win! Victory! USA! USA! We spent an entire week in the Yucatan and not so much as a deep tan for the boy. Yes he wore the same shirt all day everyday for a week, and no I never washed it. And yes we ate terribly, but his skin looks so nice and unred. Sure we took some risks in other ways, but the sun was defeated! And while we broke international laws like Bruce Lee breaks boards, we honored the law of "slather your child in sunscreen." It was a tough battle, the sun tried valiantly to get us, and took many others (oh man were there some reddies in Belize), but we made it! I'd like to humbly acknowledge my opponent the sun, he put up a great fight, but this was just my day. I know he wants a rematch, but we'll see, I have to talk to our agent (read, Kelly).

So we finally board our plane for home. I settle into my chair, reflect on the trip, and ponder the differences between life in Belize and life in America. Then the Captain pipes in and tells us that due to a fuel shortage in Belize that will "probably only last a few more days," we only have enough gas to get to Cozumel, Mexico. So we'll fly there, refuel, and then head to Miami.

I could not have come up with a more classic ending.

So that was our little trip to Belize. A foundation memory trip if there ever was one. Perhaps somewhat bitter sweet, but only in the most distant sense. I know that at some point he won't amble into my room to talk to start our day. I also know, that while he loves it now, at some point he's going to outgrow tickling. And being goofy with Dad will be uncool. But these thoughts feel like playing outside on a beautiful day and worrying about the weather in six months. Right now the sun is bright, there's a nice breeze, and THIS day is begging us to come out and play. So that's what we're going to do.