a tale of two parents

we just arrived back home and were thrilled to see the dc spring. it was quite a relief after the snowy roads we drove this morning.

in the airport in denver we joked as we watched a little girl stand in a defiant pose, arms crossed, jaw out, hip to the side. she was waiting to load the plane and looked like if they didn't let her on that minute she might tell them where to stick it with her 7 year old self.

while we waited at Reagan National for our bags i noticed the little girl again. this time i saw her mother, thumbs ruthlessly attacking her blackberry as the little girl slumped on the floor beside her. our bags were late and while we waited over half an hour i never once saw the mother speak to her daughter. despite her daughter's loud sighs the mother never looked up from the blackberry in her hands. watching the mother's face it was clear to see where this little one learned her disgruntled-with-the-world looks.

only a few feet away was another girl, about the same age. she danced around her father as he laughed with her. they didn't talk the whole wait, but enough for her to know that he cared. he watched her while she hopped around, reminding her to be safe, or responding to her off-the-wall questions. on the way out he put her on top of the large suitcase and wheeled her out of the airport, both of them giggling away.

the blackberry-mother put her blackberry away long enough to grab the bags from the belt and she and her daughter huffed across the airport, sighing identical sighs in response to the silliness of the little girl riding the suitcase.