My Dad's Aeropuerto ...that means airport.

Did you know that I fly spray planes in my spare time?

Just kidding.

My dad is a pilot and airplane mechanic and runs his own aviation business.  He is a pretty cool guy.  

We grew up bringing our friends home for airplane rides, visiting aircraft museums, baking pilots cookies, watching huge National Guard Chinook helicopters land in our backyard, flying home from college, begging dad to turn really sharp in the airplane to give our tummies the roller-coaster feelings, quizzing each other on the Military Alphabet, and mowing around big yellow cones on our grass runway.  ...Not to mention all the fun times we had riding junk yard ATVs and duct taped cars and snowmobiles.  He is so handy.  We are proud of him.

Anyway, I have always wanted to fly with a fighter or aerobatics pilot to do barrel rolls and other fun things, but haven't had the guts or the willingness to shuck out the money yet...  I would have settled for flying with a spray plane, since they do exciting things, but they only have one seat.  Dang.

While I was home for a week, we visited my dad's airport and shop and, what do you know, he was fixing a spray plane.  I took the opportunity to snoop a bit.  Unfortunately, my dad would not clear me for takeoff.

I also realized that I wore my yellow scarf that day, which just happens to match the yellow plane.  Who knew I could be so accidentally stylish?