The happiest place in the world

My visit to Oklahoma City was refreshing. I ate, drank, and enjoyed the company of friends and family. The highlight, however, was spending time with Jack. Now that he's 19 months, he says the cutest things. My name is pronounced "Tase." It melts your heart.

However, my experience with adorable children ended the minute I stepped onto my connecting flight from Phoenix to Burbank. I always occupy an aisle seat whenever I fly. Because of this, I expect last-minute boarders to begrudgingly sit next to me. However, with plenty of open seats still remaining, an evil kid of 4 or 5 and his alcoholic nanny invaded my personal space and sat next to me. He kept yelling at her and she kept downing the tiny bottles of vodka. At one point he leaned over her seat, smiled, and pinched my knee. I hope he shit his pants when he saw the look on my face.

I spent the rest of my flight completely absorbed in my latest read, "Running with Scissors" by Augusten Burroughs. Those of you who enjoy family dysfunction and psychotic episodes will no doubt share in my evil glee. It is, undoubtedly, not for the easily offended.

And now I'm back in La La land. I marked my return by running into a low wooden roof that painfully sliced a small chunk off of my ear. The cut is huge. I look like an extra from Kill Bill. I suppose that's what I get for glaring at small children.