On Sunday morning, at approximately 3 a.m., the Mister drove me to the DFW airport to catch a 5:45 a.m. flight to Virginia.
My mission: drive home with our #2 college girl.
All went well with the first leg of my trip. My connecting flight, however, was delayed. It was also on a much smaller airplane. I should have known that when I read that my seat number was 1A – I have never even seen the front of coach class.
The reason for the delay? Thunderstorms.
They could have told me Hanibal Lechter was my seatmate and I would have been calmer.
To say that I am a nervous flier would be an understatement. The thought crossed my mind to rent a car but, unfortunately, I am direction-challenged. Sista and I are the only people in the world that consistently get lost using a GPS. We just don’t have the genes. But our incredible looks and brains make up for it.
So, anyway, I boarded the Fisher Price plane and asked the nice flight attendant if beverage service is included in the flight plan. He smiled and said yes… if there wasn’t too much turbulence.
Thank the Lord I had seat 1A – I was just a few steps away from where the vino was stored. In the event that the flight attendant had to stay buckled in, I strategized just crawling over to the fridge with my oxygen mask securely in place.
This is how I felt. Wish I looked that good.
Well, obviously I made it through with the help of the beverage service.
Again, not me. But wish it were.
My #2 picked me up at the airport and we had lunch with her darling boyfriend and left on our journey home around 4:30 p.m.
We hit a lot of those storms that gave me heart palpitations in the plane.
We took turns driving. The first 3 hours my #2 was at the helm. After a stop at Starbucks, I took the keys, drove out of the parking lot, and was stopped by this gentleman within 8 minutes of my drive time. We hadn’t even made it to the expressway!
The officer explained that he clocked me at 49 mph in a 35 mph zone. Hmmpf!! Guess the radar units work differently in Virginia than they do in Texas.
As I pulled away with my freshly written ticket, I bribed #2 not to tell the Mister.
We drove for another six long hours. In that time we visited about four more restrooms along the way. We discussed the fact that the worst part of travelling is dealing with disgusting bathrooms. We decided to come up with our own grading system. The first one in would fill the other one in on a grade.
A – disgusting
B – really disgusting
C – beyond disgusting
D – next trip, I wear Depends
We arrived at our haunted hotel in Chattanooga, TN at about midnight. Unfortunately, we missed the hours for room service and no minibar was in sight. If any ghosts came into our room we were too exhausted to see them.
Up at the crack of dawn, we were on the road again. I had made reservations at another hotel along the way, but we cancelled them because my sweet #2 said she had been dreaming of sleeping in her own bed for months. I had that same dream.
Another 12 hours, 9 grade D bathroom stalls, 6 bottles of water, 3 tanks of gas, plenty of unhealthy snacks, and lots of laughs along the way, we pulled into our driveway to find the Mister with flashlights in hand helping to direct us into the garage.
He hugged our baby, then kissed me and said how happy he was that we were home safely with no casualties, speeding tickets, or arrest warrants.
I winked at #2 and she smiled and reminded me that we have a shopping date to plan.
Whatever you say, #2!!
Hope your day is turbulence free!!!