Adventures in Family Travel part 2

Okay, I have apparently developed a fan base out there (btw, a fan base is loosely considered a group of people numbering less than a million and slightly more than one) over my transparent discussions of the joy of traveling with children. It is also a fantastic picture of just how secure our nations airway systems are from the threat of a 3 year old. Way to go airport screeners.

We left off at the trip of our family to attend my wife’s grandmother’s funeral in Kansas City, MO. KC is a great place and we hope to see their MLB baseball team some day turn around like the Texas Rangers. Of course, I may have just jinxed the rest of the season for Texas. Anyway, after enduring a number of nights in KC in which the highlights include Hunter screaming himself to sleep in his “port-a-crib prison” and a wonderful introduction to all sorts of new allergies we made our way back to the airport to board a plan to come home.

Once we unloaded the u-haul of all our luggage and checked baggage, thank God the AA fee for checking bags wasn’t enforced yet, we made our way into the airport where the Hovis family had promptly taken residence across an entire row of seats. I go, feeling a bit like a pack mule, and check us in to our flight. After this I come back to the family to discover my sister-in-law has been nice enough to purchase a tall Starbucks black drip for me. I knew I liked her for some reason. I sit back to enjoy the wonderful black coffee goodness that is Starbucks just in time for Jaclyn’s dad to announce that if we don’t go now we will miss our flight, because you need to be at the gate an hour and a half before boarding to make sure they don’t leave you behind. So, we begin to search for the Hovis girls who have all drifted about to secure their gossip mags, candy, and other goodies for the plane ride. At this point I get the death shot from the family. We are informed that they won’t allow liquids through airport security. I must either finish my coffee, trash my coffee, or stay behind and find a place to live in KC with my coffee. This decision would take some time.

I decided to drink as much of the coffee as I could, which amounted to burning my tongue and throat with the coffee (it was well worth it) and tossed the rest in the trash. We lined up, packed up, and headed up to the security gate. Yeah airport security. We begin the process of removing shoes, kids, items, bags, metal, and everything else in order to survive the detector. Interestingly enough, there was no line when we got there, but a line sure did develop as we tried to go through. Hmmm, funny how that happens. Anyway, our 3 year old Hudson (who was tired) had a juice cup in his hand. Thankfully, the x-ray lady had caught the milk cups, which were in the bags going through the machine, and ordered them field-tested for explosives. God bless airport security. While I am dealing with that, we try to send Hudson through the metal detector. The nice man, who obviously doesn’t have a 3 year old, informs us that he can’t carry his juice cup through. So, after arguing with Hudson about his cup, his refusal to hand it over, I got to wrestle the cup from his hand and send it through the x-ray machine. Hudson then begin to scream and cry. Thank you airport security. Now, Hudson has to walk through the thing by himself because he can’t be carried. So, we have the lady wanting Hunter’s milk to be checked for explosives, Hudson is screaming in front of the metal detector, and we are all trying to get him to go through so the rest of us can not be left behind by the plane, which leaves in an hour. Me, I am thinking about finding that place in KC to stay with a Starbucks coffee.

We get to the gate that is located right next to the security point and sit to watch the backup we caused slowly unwind. Hunter has had enough of his stroller and wants to stretch his legs. So begins the process of watching take an incredible fascination with all things airport security. And I kind of want to let me meddle in their business just to bug them for the juice cup incidents. But, since they feel the need to crush a 3 year old in the name of “air travel safety” (because Al Qaeda’s new model is a middle class white family with children) I am not confident they wouldn’t through a 1 year old in the pokey for being a terrorist.

Thankfully, we got on the plane safely and the flight was very open with lots of extra seats. As Jaclyn handed out the benedryl I seriously thought about drinking the bottle and drifting off to la-la land where I could dream of dropkicking airport security people into the ocean, but I resist. Hunter got to sit in his own seat by himself next to me because it was open. Boy was he proud of himself. He did it all. He leaned back, played with the armrest button, checked out a few in-flight magazines, flirted with the lady next to him, and had a good time. Once we arrived back at DFW I headed out with Jon, my brother-in-law-in-law (he is married to my sister-in-law I don’t know what else to call it) to get his vehicle so he can drive me to our vehicle so we can come back to pick up the women-folk who are getting the luggage. So we traverse the parking garage to locate his truck, make our way to our van which is parked in terminal “a” (if you don’t know that story click here for part 1). Before we even made it Jon got “the call” asking us where we were and how long we were going to be. Apparently, our luggage was the first off the plane due to the massive scare we caused by just traveling. I tried to feel bad for him, but I was really just glad I wasn’t the one getting the call. So, we made our way to pick up the kids and off we went to pay the airport for the privilege of parking at the wrong terminal and having our bags, selves, and everything else checked by security agents.

Thank you airport security, keep up the good work and protect our skies from 3 year olds and milk.


~ by bchatcher on July 11, 2008.

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