Why you always get sick on planes...

Well that was a laugh. We're back from 2 weeks in Canada, having contracted a wicked lurgi on the flight between Vancouver and Calgary. No fun really. It took the shine off the last week, however it was a brilliant holiday. Here's a bit of what we did:

I watched while my brother let Charlie push the ignition button on his car:

...Then he revved the engine, really high so the car roared. You have never seen a happier boy. And Charlie was pretty thrilled too...

Then there was a bit of this behind the Frog's back (he hasn't forgiven me quite yet...)

...Charlie's used to it now but I'm not sure I am...

Then we did a bit of seasonal stuff which was way fun:




A few days later we headed to the grandparents and did various cosy snowy things with which I shall not bore you... stuff like this:

...yes, that's my Pa, BBQing breakfast in the snow. Well. In a few patches of snow.

Then we went further into the mountains. Charlie was very impressed. You can tell, can't you?

After that there was a lot of whinging about being homesick, at least until the day we took off into the cold to trek to the two nearest neighbours for sackloads of trick-or-treat. Nothing like walking home along a dark and deserted country road with one's 4-year-old to make one wish one had taken the bear horn along for the ride; all we saw were stars, however. Then there were fireworks. Then it was bedtime.

After that we laid low and enjoyed the family until our very good friend Allen came and picked us up for a rip-roaring night in Calgary with old mates. Shortly after that Charlie decided he had a fever. I debated missing the plane and settled for dosing him up. The fever abated. We got on the plane. I apologise to everyone who was on that plane.

I have worked out why one always gets sick on planes however. I reckon loads of people fly out and back in a week. This is just long enough to pick something up on one plane and still be infectious on the flight home, thus infecting another load of people. I see us as just one cog on the great wheel of international plague. I may never fly again.

We spent the last four days in bed. Would have been lovely if we'd been able to move.