H took this picture yesterday. I came downstairs and she nearly knocked me over saying she needed the camera. Now! She went outside where J was also taking pictures, and set up her shot. She asked to see it in the back of the camera 5 times and asked if I could print it out, she wanted to frame it.
J and H had been sitting outside talking, before the sky changed and hustled the photographers into action. H told J she wanted to be an artist when she grew up. Then a scientist. What got me though, was when she told J that she wanted to fly. She wanted to be a pilot. She said she'd have her own plane, so she could fly us places. That she'd also have a dog plane so Ruby and Mayo could come. (Why can't I just enjoy the idea of a dog plane? I do, very much, but I had to stifle my questions about who would be flying the dog plane. This would be in the future, maybe there will be tow planes by then. Planes with hitches.)
This is what you want for your kids, that they'll want to fly. That they'll do things that scare the hell out of you. That they'll make you question why exactly it is you, yourself, are so afraid to fly.