Timothy and I are moving out of an apartment once again. We have everything packed and find out that our ride is not available, so we unpack again. Suddenly it is the next day, our ride is there, and we are not packed. Irritation. Then, we are in some kind of flying tourist attraction, soaring over the Columbia River. I am afraid to look out. Timothy is going to jump out and fly in a flying glider contraption. I try to talk him out of it, to no avail. I have a baby, and it dies.