I don't know how many of you remember the TV show M*A*S*H?
We didn't have a TV when we lived overseas, but we'd watch it religiously when we were in the U.S. I was madly in love with Hawkeye. And I sobbed at the last episode.
My dad loved the show as well, although having worked in hospitals in Vietnam in the early 60s, I think sometimes it was just too close to home.
And not to pull this post down, but I have to say, knowing how irreparably damaged my dad was from his time in Vietnam, I worry daily about our troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. (Andie, I don't know you, but I worry about you.)
This could get very heavy very fast, and really, deserves its own post. So back to the subject at hand.
Because really, I'm here to talk about Radar. Well, helicopters. But Radar as well.
Remember Radar? He'd suddenly look up in the air and say, "Incoming wounded..." And then they'd hear the choppers.
This is exactly how Jordan is with helicopters. They fascinate him. All of a sudden, he'll stand stock still and say, "Hutta! Hutta!" and run for the windows. And then I'll hear them.
We got him a shirt with helicopters on it and it is his favorite. He loves the huttas.
So last Saturday, for Nick's birthday, we got him these helicopter cufflinks from The Crossings' Etsy shop. So Jordan and the huttas are never far away.