It was early last spring. My daughter and I were driving through King of Prussia, Pa, headed for lunch at Bahama Breeze when I noticed a tall building with the words iFly printed on it.
Jessi was silent for a moment and then, “Let’s do it!”
Wait? What? NO! I was only kidding, were the words that were stuck in my throat.
“Not from an airplane,” Jessi said, clearly delighted with herself. “Here. At iFly,” which I later learned meant jumping from an indoor tower where there are fans blowing to keep you up. (Fans?!?!)
Oh God! Whose brilliant idea was this?
“No, let’s do it! On your birthday! We’ll do it then!”
When summer arrived, I kept my mouth shut. I never mentioned it again. My birthday came and went with nary a mention of foolish ideas. I began to breathe better. I began to smile again.
And then for Christmas, my daughter handed me an envelope. “Open this one last,” she said.
“Okay,” I said. In it was a gift certificate to iFly! My reaction was violent. I slammed the card shut. “Oh no, not this!” I cried.
My daughter was stunned. “I thought you wanted this. I got one, too.”
I looked at my son-in-law. “Did you get one?”
He shook his head.
Oh God, I thought. “Will you at least go with us? You can pick up the pieces.”
…to be continued – (I hope!)