This blog post brought to you by persistent jet lag (why else would I be up at 5am?):
Daughter, to Son: You have to guess the password. Son: Cake. Daughter: Nope. Son: Hullabaloo. Daughter: Nuh uh. Son: Wrestling. Daughter: No. Son: Forest. Daughter: Nope. Son, leaving: Okay, well, I have to go somewhere and fart now. Daughter: That's IT!!!
On the trip back, half way through a 13-hour flight: Son: I know what I'm gonna be for Halloween. Me: That's months away! Son: No, wait! I'm going to be a beggar. Daughter: I'm going to be a whiner. Me: Oh, goodie. Son: I'll dress up in rags, and beg. Daughter: And I'll whine about a bunch of stuff! Actually, everything. Son: Please!! Please!!! Daughter: Waaaaah. Whine!!
After Day 2 back at school: Me: How was your day? Son: Great. I love day two. 'Cause on the first day back, you're all "that guy who went to New Zealand." But the next day, you're just a regular guy. You don't need too much attention.
Son was disgruntled that the day we lost to the international date line was: December 25. He is not impressed that we will get two shots at January 16 as we cross back over the line. However, we have had this conversation every day for over a week, and counting: