Aren’t I just so special?
Yes, I’m being facetious.
On our flight home from California on Tuesday I was chosen for “additional security measures” and since Ivan was traveling with me, he got the special treatment, too.
Besides being pulled aside and patted down, our things were checked for explosive residue. This entailed opening up my purse and the carry-on where I’d discretely tucked a package of sanitary napkins in the zippered side pocket. The security person left it tucked in. But helpful hubby, in his haste to zip everything back up whipped the bag around, flinging sanitary pads in every direction.
I blushed, but said nary a word as I quickly scooted around the security area picking up pads and stuffing them into my purse.
So I started out a little on the flushed side.
Then the terminal where we waited for our delayed flight was hot. Very hot. In preparation for the frigid Michigan weather we were returning to, I had dressed in warm clothes that included my long silk underwear.
At first I gently perspired as any proper southern woman will do. Hot flashes increased my discomfort. Beads of moisture appeared upon my brow. I pushed the sleeves up on my sweater. Then I took the sweater off. I used my boarding pass as a fan. I was beginning to feel a little bit desperate about the situation.
When they called our names to come to the counter area so we could get our seats assigned, I started to call Hubby and Daughter but discovered my cell phone was missing. I had been entrusted with all our paraphernalia while they accessed the free internet. So I had to haul all our coats, my purse and the carry-ons down the terminal a ways to where they were hunkered down on their laptops. Between the extra exertion and the anxiety over the missing phone, my heat index was rising faster than the Dow Jones used to. I had a bit of a meltdown actually. In my panic about the phone, I turned my purse upside down and dumped everything in it onto the seat.
I carry a large purse.
It was full.
Of everything I needed for the flight.
Including those sanitary pads I'd recently picked up in security.
Hubby's eyes got big, but he wisely said nothing.
What is there to say to a crazy southern woman having hot flashes in an airport while waiting for a delayed flight in a terminal that has to be eighty degrees and who has just discovered she can't find her cell phone because it's GONE?!
Boarding eventually began. But unable to stand it any longer, I finally hightailed it into the restroom and quickly disrobed, taking off the offending long underwear. Ahhh, relief!
Once on the plane, things began looking up.
Our seats were in the first aisle in economy, leaving us with lots and lots of leg room. Nice!
Great for our legs, but poor Hubby’s shoulder was really aching at the end of that four hour flight from being squashed into the middle seat.
So imagine our pleasure when we got on the last flight and found we were by an emergency exit door with only two seats instead of three, leaving not only extra leg room but also arm room. Yippee!
The two hour drive home from the airport went smoothly but, boy, were we wiped out when we finally pulled into our driveway at 2:30 a.m.!
So the trip is over and we are home.
It was good.
I will write more about the actual time in California later. And post pictures. Promise.
But after operating on just four hours of sleep, I am succumbing to the lure of my bed.