This past week my husband and I went on an adventure. It was a super-fun trip involving baby-holding, wine-tasting, family-visiting, and seminary-graduating. However, in order to go on our adventure to Florida, first we had to go through the ordeal of a 3 hour long airplane journey.
Everyone nowadays knows that flying anywhere is a big event. You shop around for a few days to find the best airline and price. You choose your seats carefully. You pack frugally [for me that meant only bring 5 pairs of shoes]. You have to make sure your papers are in order and that the milk in your fridge won’t sour.
You also have to be sure that your bag weighs less than 40lbs. Unless you get confused and think that it has to weigh less than 35lbs [like we did]. I put all my shoes in my carry-on and there were several pairs of jeans in Tim’s lap-top bag. In order to double-check your bag’s weight you have to go to your parents’ house and weigh yourself [a daunting task] and then yourself carrying the bag [I think I broke the bathroom scales doing this]. Then you have to do math. Then you have to hope that you don’t have to pay the over-weight charge of $50 [which is more than it would cost to add a whole other bag].
The security check-point at the airport is getting sorta over-blogged so I won’t say much about that. Only this: I had to submit to having my hair patted down. I have big hair. I guess they thought I was hiding something in it. I wish they’d just let me be frizzy in peace.
Then, once you actually get on the plane, you sometimes have to sit in the middle of a row. Like me. I sat by Tim [which was totally fine] and a weird older lady who would say incomprehensible things to me. I’d nod and smile and hope that I hadn’t just agreed to something insane. We saw that same lady again on our return flight. She looked at us like we must be stalkers or something.
Sometimes, like on our return trip, you are stuck sitting in front of an incorrigible toddler who thinks if he screams [not cries, but screams with no tears] that he’ll get to get out of his toddler-chair. This boy also assumed that if he kicked the seat in front of him [where a large older lady sat next to me] that he will be entertaining. The old lady was not amused and turned around to tell the poor, embarrassed parents exactly what she thought of their child’s behavior. I stared at my knees awkwardly and tried not to cringe with each continuing scream and her continuing tut-tutting.
Did I mention that you have to pay for water? And that a plastic cup of soda costs $3? And that airplanes are either boiling hot or freezing cold?
Thankfully our trip was awesome enough to make up for the pains of flying there. Three hour flights are better than 2 days of driving, although, after hearing that kids screaming, I’m not so sure.