Spain Dad, a baby blog

The buzzer rang.

I looked up from the open suitcase in front of me, then got up, walked over to the window, and leaned over the couch so I could see the street below.

In the glow of tail lights I could see the shadow of a man standing on the sidewalk in front of our building.

The buzzer rang again. This time I picked up the phone.

“Hello,” I said.

“Airport shuttle.”

I hesitated, glancing toward the bedroom.

“We’re on our way down.”

I hung up the phone and walked back through the apartment, stepping over the suitcase to get to the bedroom door.

“The shuttle’s here,” I said into the dark room. “I’m gonna start bringing things down.”

After yanking the zipper around from one corner to the other, I drug the suitcase and our other bags to the front door and set them in the hallway. I slung the baggage over my shoulders and struggled to the elevator.

The driver and I were leaning against the van waiting when April and Alleke finally appeared. It wasn’t until much later, after we had checked in at the airport and found our gate that I noticed that Alleke was in bare feet.

She was curled up on the seat between April and me with her head on her mom’s lap, her blankie in her arms, and her bare little toes resting on my leg.

Alleke always sleeps with bare feet. She kicks off her covers, and when she first started wearing footie pajamas, she was constantly pointing at her toes until we ripped apart the seams so her feet could stick out.

Still, I didn’t like her bare feet. Not here. I get worried about doing things right at the airport and on the airplane. For instance, I’m the guy who feels bad about leaning my chair back so I can sleep when I know the person behind me will have less room, even if the person is leaned back and sleeping too. I don’t like it when April asks me to ask the flight attendant for a glass of water. I don’t like asking another passenger to switch seats with me so I can sit by my family, or asking the person sitting next to me to get up so I can go to the bathroom. I definitely don’t like it when Alleke makes a lot of noise, even when she’s giggling.

I had been watching April prepare for our trip, though, and she spent days thinking about how to make the airplane fun for Alleke. She didn’t mind feeding Alleke yogurt while we’re boarding, or making a mess on the airplane with Alleke’s toys, scattered all over the floor, stuffed in all the pockets, and rolled into the aisles. She made people wait in line for the bathroom while she hummed a song and changed Alleke’s diaper, and obviously had no problem with Alleke running around the airport in bare feet.

And you know what, Alleke was happy.

What I’ve realized is that the people around me will probably be a lot happier if I put Alleke’s needs first, like April does. If Alleke is happy, everybody is happy, even if it means she’s running around in bare feet…and who knows, maybe next time I’ll even take my socks off and join her.

For more, read about how Alleke handled jet lag last time we were in the US…