Before admitting this, I had to consult Highway Patrol. It seems I am safe in telling you that I drove like a demon trying to make a recent flight. Good news: No speeding ticket.
Our son, Cassidy, is a beast. He can lift nearly 1,000 pounds and was competing in a Strongman Competition out of state.
St. Bob had already flown there to watch, two days ahead of me. Here we are, in a gym with Cassidy and his darling wife, Tiffany last April:
Except… I took a wrong offramp. No problem, I thought. I’ll just get back on. But the onramp said it was closed.
Then the parking lot was full. I was directed to a street that took me to the arrivals. And I will admit that when I hit those speed bumps I was a tiny bit airborne. Cost me five minutes. Still no ticket.
I slowed down and made it to the
REAL wrong parking lot. Found a distant
spot and got shin splints running to the terminal. And here’s where the real
screeching happened, as I saw about 40 people in line ahead of me and the
airline hadn’t yet sent my reservation number, which would have let me use the
electronic sign-in machines. So, after inching
along in that line, I took the tram and headed to security. I now had about
eight minutes to catch my flight.
Oops. Now there were at least 200
people ahead of me and half an hour of waiting at least. There was no way to make this last-minute
Yes, I cried. Yes, I drove straight to Handel’s ice cream shop, as one does, and ordered a scoop of Chocolate Oree-Dough (chocolate ice cream with Oreo cookies and cookie dough pieces).
While driving home some dear
friends had heard about my missed flight and called to ask me to lunch. Incredibly
sweet of them! So I had to hurry and finish my ice cream so I could go to lunch.
And St. Bob sent me a cupcake. Yes, I
feel much better. Still sorry I missed
the event, but basking in the love and sugar.
Hey, bask in my Youtube Mom videos—hundreds of life hacks!