“If you become a bird and fly away from me, I will be a tree that you come home to.”
-Margaret Wise Brown, “The Runaway Bunny”
The flight from Duluth to Chicago usually takes a little over an hour. As the plane taxied for take off, the pilot’s voice came over the loudspeaker to explain that there had been some turbulence as he’d flown in, but that “thanks to the miracle of man-made flight” he anticipated getting us to Chicago ahead of schedule.
I will stop here to say that I had seen this pilot standing in the door of the cockpit as I boarded, and as God as my witness, he didn’t look old enough to fly an airplane. Seriously.
The flight was smooth and uneventful until we approached O’Hare. I don’t despise landings like I do take offs, because landings mean I am going to be back on the ground soon where moms who are afraid of flying know they belong. The plane started its descent. It circled the airport. Then, it circled again, and again. I heard the thump and whir of the landing gear.
Suddenly, the engines roared and the plane started going back up, not down. Then, we circled again and again. Finally, Skippy the Boy Pilot’s voice came back over the loudspeaker.
“Hey, Guys! You may be wondering what’s going on (you could say that, Skippy) I guess there’s a rabbit on the runway and we have been told to circle for a bit until they get what’s left of Bugs Bunny cleaned up. I should have you on the ground in about five to ten minutes. Thanks for your patience!”
A bunny? On the runway? A runway bunny? Shut the front door, Skippy.
Is an airplane sliding off a runway because of bunny guts something I need to add to my List of Things to Worry About? So many questions. So few answers.
In other news, I am visiting my daughter who lives in the sky in an apartment that overlooks the Chicago skyline. From thirteen floors up, at night, the lights of this enormous city are a sight to behold.
Even for moms who worry way too much about things they can’t control who wish that all bunnies would just stay in the woods.