“Roger that.”
Pre-flight routine time. Gauges. Check. Throttle ready. Check. Hand on the stick. Check.
“Is it time?”
Jake, my copilot, is antsy like usual.
“We won’t be late, Jake.”
“You say so. Let’s go.”
“Let’s do this.”
I throttle up. The engine roars to life. But a sudden sharp knock on the hatch stops everything. The hatch flies open.
“You boys come in and wash up. Jake, your momma said you can stay and eat dinner here if you’d like.”
“But mom!”
“No buts! Get your butts inside!”
Gives grounded a whole new meaning.