No insightful writerly post today. Today I took my only child to the airport for her first plane trip. She is now safely ensconced in the arms of my family in Michigan. From the phone I received not too long ago, she's already having the time of her life. =oD
Me? I'm draggin' butt. We left at 5:30am after a rather sleepless night on my part (and on hers, too, I'm sure). The closest airport is two and half hours away, and with the unaccompanied minor (U.M.) rules and the heightened security rules, we had to make sure we were there extra early for her 10:30 flight to Detroit. No problem. I've flown dozens of times, so I had it all down to a science. Neither of us had anything even remotely scary in our purses, or in her carry-on. Neither of us had any metal - with the exception of my wedding ring and her glasses. We got through the checkpoint with plenty of time to spare.
We found the gate and touched base with the personnel there. Who, BTW, were a couple of awesome people who knew how to do their jobs not only efficiently, but also kindly. Since my daughter was a U.M., she boarded first and got the grand treatment. I waited by the gate for the plane to take off - which is not only a rule for people dropping off kids to fly alone, but also there's no way I was leaving the airport until I was absolutely certain she was off. Good thing I waited.
After all the passengers were on board, and they were getting ready to fire the puppy up to jet off into the wild blue yonder, the gal at the gate desk got a phone call. All of the passengers were going to have to get off the plane, and move to a different plane. (I never did find out exactly what the problem was.) So, off she comes and away we go to the next gate. The personnel there were in sharp contrast to the ones - snotty, couldn't-care-less types. *shrug*
After about an hour delay, she finally pulled away and up into the air. (I waited to make sure. )And I piled back into my car for the return drive home. She was in Michigan, and in the company of my brother, by the time I got home.
Needless to say, I'm whooped. And I have to do it all again in two weeks. Well, not the delay part, I hope. I can only stand so much road-time after all these years. Back in the day - when I was still living in Michigan - I was a road warrior, and 500 miles a week was no big deal. Not any more.
Ack. I feel old.
So, what were you up to today?
Sunday Update - Week 28
18 hours ago