My youngest son, an airline pilot, called me from the airport and told me that my daughter-in-law had just boarded his flight to Paris. The problem was that the very same woman was currently taking a shower in my house. I was in the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of coffee, when my cell phone rang. It was Scott. His voice didn’t sound like a pilot’s. It sounded like a scared little boy’s.
The woman stepped out of the hallway with a towel over her shoulders and wet hair plastered to her face. It was Megan. And it wasn’t Megan. She had her …
My youngest son, an airline pilot, called me from the airport and told me that my daughter-in-law had just boarded his flight to Paris. The problem was that the very same woman was currently taking a shower in my house. I was in the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of coffee, when my cell phone rang. It was Scott. His voice didn’t sound like a pilot’s. It sounded like a scared little boy’s. Read More