Monday, June 9, 2008

Well Said, Young Man

Mr. O just wrapped up the third vacation of his 14 month life, and on it, he chose to say his first "words." Within some hours of arriving in Jackson, Wyoming, home of the Grand Teton Mountains and Yellowstone National Park, he said, "Uh Oh!"

Never have two syllables rang more true.

When his parents and grandparents sprinted through O'Hare Airport after being stopped by a slow-moving freight train on the way to the airport, followed by a ticket counter shouting match with someone who may or may not have been an employee of United, no one seemed to know, Mr. O thought, "Uh Oh."

When his aunt and uncle missed their connecting flight to the O'Hare, Mr. O thought once again, "Uh Oh."

When his aunt got sick one day into the trip and had to visit the Urgent Care, Mr. O said, "Uh Oh."

When the road to see one of the main attractions at Yellowstone was closed, Mr. O said, "Uh Oh."

When he woke up in the middle of the night with a 103 degree fever, Mr. O didn't say much of anything.

When Mr. O was diagnosed the next day at the Jackson Urgent Care with a severe ear infection and told he could not fly home, Mr. O's parents said, "Uh Oh."

When Mr. O's dad --- that would be me --- got a $116 speeding ticket leaving the Urgent Care, Mr. O managed a weak, "Uh Oh."

When his fever lasted and lasted and lasted and topped out around 104.7, Mr. O was too sick to say, "Uh Oh."

When the power went out on the last afternoon of vacation with prescribed medicine in the fridge, Mr. O said, "Oh good, I hate that stuff."

When a nice doctor at the Jackson ER said Mr. O could fly with an ear infection, it just might hurt a bit, all the passengers on the flight collectively said, "Uh Oh."

When a stinkin' owl perched itself outside the bedroom window of our cabin and launched into the Halle-WHO-jah Chorus about four hours before our 6:45 a.m. departure for the airport, Mr. O lifted his feverish noggin from his crib mattress and whispered, "Uh Oh."

All said, the trip went off without much of a hitch. Mr. O survived the flight and was a little man of few words until we pulled into a gas station outside of Kalamazoo, where the beautiful side effects of a strong antibiotic caused the little guy to fill his diaper, his pants and his car seat. "UH OH!"

Then, I look at this.


And this.


And while "Uh Oh" will place pretty high in my memories of this trip, a simple "Ohhhhh" will rank up there too.

NOTE: More phot-Os, to your left.

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