My dad is a pilot. He flies a jet for an airline. During his time off, he flies a little Cessna 210 that once belonged to his dad. It was built in 1967. I took my first trip in it when I was 11 days old down to Cumberland.
Dad is now 51, and he's still a daredevil. Whenever he takes off, he never fails to find his family, wherever they may be, and give them a good buzz. We all run outside and wave.
The look on my mom's face when he does this is priceless. So is the look, I'll bet, on my dad's, zooming by at 80+ knots. They're both all smiles.