It’s been a rough week. That is putting it mildly, but the wide-eyed optimist in me has learned to focus more on tomorrow than to dwell on today and in my endeavor to start this week off better than the last, I thought it was time for a Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. The 32-year old in me is convinced that all of life’s problems can be solved by a John Hughes 80’s film. As a result, today my son and I planned a Sunday Funday adventure. Since we can’t charter a plane and post 911 TSA rules won’t allow for aimless wondering through LAX, the next best bet was an In and Out burger, fries and a visit to the park adjacent to the airport where we could see the planes fly over. Every time a big Boeing flew overhead, we screamed at the top of our lungs and sprawled out on the grass with arms wide open. Grass stains on our clothes called for the missing ingredient of water. Supposedly you are not supposed to swim after lunch, which is exactly the reason we did. With some good friends in tow we floated on our backs like sea otters and kicked our feet to the Ferris Bueller rendition of “Twist and Shout.” On a Ferris Bueller Day off you don’t care if your freshly pressed hair gets a wet. This is a crime that has sealed the fate of African American children world-wide, but on this day I found myself saying “Cameron Fry this one is for you,” as I dove into the deep end. We splashed, we swam and as a true testament to our throw caution to the wind Sunday, I also disregarded my zero tolerance for red dye #14 and capped off our afternoon swim with 7-11 slurpees. Burgers, chlorine, toxic dyes and heat exhaustion are the perfect recipe for afternoon naps. Sure we could sleep in a bed, but it would be a lot more exciting to blow up air mattresses and make tents instead. The only thing missing from our day was a marching band. Then again there is always tomorrow, for as Ferris reminds us “ Life moves pretty fast. You don’t stop and look around once and a while you could miss it.” Sincerely, Really.
