Frankly, I’m Fucking Exhausted

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…if “wonderful” is synonymous with “exhausting.” 

We’ve been to parties. Soirées. Luncheons. We’ve shopped. Cooked. Had Christmas with our kids. 

And we’ve worried. We’ve worried because Winky the House Elf had to fly to Oklahoma today to spend Christmas with her father. Oklahoma…where an ice storm began yesterday. 

When my girl flies alone in the winter I book her tickets far enough in advance to chose the connecting city. Winter = Phoenix. That part was handled months ago. That at least eliminates part of the problem since Phoenix isn’t super likely to get winter weather and has lots of flights back to San Diego in case Winky gets stopped there and can’t go further. (Renting a hotel room isn’t exactly an option when you’re fifteen.) 

We were at the airport exactly 2 hours before her flight. Things looked really good when we got there. The parking lot was nowhere near full, and there was hardly a line at security. (That picture was drastically different when we left a couple of hours later.) Naturally, the Winkster had to bring a gigantic bag, so it had to be checked. In spite of having her boarding passes printed out she had to use the full service lane instead of express so that Chaos Boy and I could get escort passes. (This was at the suggestion of the airline. Chaos Boy had called them last night about our weather concerns and what our options would be if flights were cancelled.) 

The full service line was long, but I’ve definitely seen it longer. We settled in to wait. And people watch. Because that’s our favorite family pastime. Naturally there was a woman in front of us in line with a preschool aged child and four bags. Every time the line moved the woman would move two of the bags and leave the tiny child behind to move the others. Every. Fucking. Time. 

It took us about 45 minutes to get to the front of the line. And that’s when we were heroes.

The ditz with the kid and the 4 bags was up next and headed for an open kiosk with her two bags. And left her damn kid trailing behind wrestling with the other bags. Mother of the year was busily tapping on the kiosk with her back to the poor little matchgirl wrestling an alligator (or a big green suitcase) when another family came barrel through with a luggage cart. Pushed by a child. 

So here we have the scene: luggage cart kid is hot on the heels of suitcase girl without room to pass. Dipshit mom is still tapping at the kiosk and has never turned around. Instead of asking mom for help, SG just keeps struggling and is at a full stop in front of LCK. That’s when LCK’s dad walks around him and the cart, grabs the alligator from SG and moves it. And. Just. Keeps. Walking.

That’s right! He walked away with the suitcase, and LCK just followed him, as did LCK’s mom. And SG? Didn’t say a word. And her mother? Still just tapping away. 

This is where Chaos Boy and I stunned a couple hundred people into silence by shouting, “Hey! That’s not your bag!” Damn straight. Because that’s what heroes do.

I’m honestly not sure what was on that man’s mind. I’m guess he was just late and frazzled and didn’t realize what he’d done. Dipshit mom thanked us (but not as profusely as I’d have thanked someone). But the best part of it all was when Winky took out her headphones and asked, “What just happened?”

Ah, teenagers. Not a care in the world.

She got to Oklahoma just fine. Now I need a fucking nap.

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