Day Eight: The Airport

I need to stawp.

But I can't.

... Guess what I'm going to write about today.

If you guessed Firefly fan fiction, you. Well.

Okay. Yeah. I did actually write some Firefly fan fiction today.

But mostly I just wrote about Bird again.

My name is Robert Fontana, and I am addicted to my daughter's laugh.

This is the point where you mumble, "Hi, Robert," in monotone unison, and then I launch into my story and you pretend to be listening.

But I hope you'll actually listen this time. Because Bird is the most astounding little girl you will ever meet, and you should listen.

I've been traveling a lot lately for work. And I can tell you that there is nothing, absolutely nothing I hate more than being away from Bird.

When I first began having to travel for work, I thought about Bird's mother. I had been trying not to think of her for years, but I thought about calling the old number I had for her and seeing if she was sober enough to watch her child for a few days.

But then I remembered that Bird's mother was Elaine, and no matter how much a girl needs interaction with her biological mother, Bird never needed the horror of knowing how her mother truly was.

So I asked Janey if she'd be willing to stay with Bird for a few nights.

And Janey is the most amazing nanny/tutor/superwoman ever to exist, so she was excited to get to be Bird's three-day-parent.

I think about Bird the whole time I'm gone.

I don't know why my office keeps sending me on these trips - I'm ridiculously distracted the whole time and bounce on my toes until I can walk through the airport to the exit and see Bird's face light up when she spots me in the crowd.

That moment she takes off running towards me, her arms up before she even gets to me so I can grab her faster, that moment is better than any drug, or anything else, in the universe.

I don't even notice anyone else is in the airport; it's just Bird and I in that moment as I twirl her around in my arms.

"I didn't miss you at all," she'll say, trying to mimic the sarcasm of Janey she's picked up.

"That's okay," I'll reply. "I missed you enough to make up for it."

Janey always waits for us, patiently giving us our space, standing holding Bird's backpack just smiling at us from a distance.

She's wonderful like that.

But we always make our way over, and she always hugs me and tells me welcome home.

We're an odd pairing, Bird, Janey, and I. But I love this unorthodox little family we've made for ourselves.