Southwest Airlines got a close taste when Gannon, in his glorious 7 years of wisdom and knowledge, boarded a few Tuesdays ago for a week long visit with his California Grandparents.
I was ENORMOUSLY scared for my little guy. Yes, yes, I know that kids fly all the time and that RARELY things go wrong. I knew I was going to be a train wreck regardless, so I took my fabulous friend Sharee with me to help calm my nerves, re-assure me, you know, be a friend.
The drive to the airport was .......loooooooonnnnnnnggggggg. We always joke about "are we there yet", but I had never actually encountered it.
G: "How much longer do we have to drive?"
M: "Well, we left about 15 minutes ago, so 45 more minutes."
G: "How 'bout now? Now how much longer?"
M: "Honey, it's only been 3 minutes, so 42 minutes left."
G: "Now?!?!?!"
M: "41 minutes."
This went on for the e.n.t.i.r.e. trip.
When we got to the airport we got his boarding passes (he stood on the luggage scale, then zeroed it for them. What a helper), went through security (he wondered out loud why a grown man was kicking his bag through the line. That was poor stewardship), and found his gate.
I was kissing and hugging him, and telling him to pray for the flight, the ground crew, and for his mommy. I was loving on him, already anticipatorily missing him
"I'm sorry I choosed to go, Mommy. I'll miss you very much." he said, reassuring me. He felt he needed to keep going. "And I shouldn't say the word BOMB, right?!?!?!"
I gave up after that.
I prayed, I cried, I had some wine.
At 1045pm, I got the call. HE LANDED and was OK! Thankfully the flight attendant did not let him order a Bud Light per his request, and as it turns out, "Strangers aren't scary! They are REALLY nice!"
