So much time has passed that now the post could temptingly consist of: I picked her up at the airport, we played games and ate food and went to Disney World, and had Thanksgiving, the end.
But, it won't.
Part (A) of Part 2: Picking her up at the airport
We left off with me frantically waiting in line at a store that I detest, where I was buying items we were out of and needed to have (for example WATER). I was also purchasing flowers for incoming girl and book, Wimpy Kid's 4th book.
The line was killing me. (Almost) literally. I was starting to tap my fingers on things: my leg, the shopping cart, the edge of the conveyer belt. I was breathing faster and giving dirty glances to the lady in front of me who had a million or so items, wanting to say or rather, yell, "Get out of my way! My daughter is going to be here and I have to be at the gate holding flowers and a sign! Don't you know that it's almost Thanksgiving and people have places to be!! MOVE!!!" But, I restrained myself and instead, tapped fingers and feet and reminded myself to breath for God's sake.
I get out to the car and realize I have milk to put in the fridge, because this girl is going to want milk on her cocoa puffs, damn it! I call Joe: Joe, do you think I have time to go home before going to the airport?? I am almost in tears. Yes, you'll be fine. It only takes like 45 min to get there. Right. Okay. Okay.
But, there's traffic. Then, there's parking. Then, the worthless airline attendants say This is the baggage drop line. Did you already check in? And I say very rapidly, NO. I'm not flying. I just need to get a pass to go back to pick up my daughter. There was, needless to say, back and forth here. Finally, a brisk woman comes to take me to another kiosk (they should make this more clear) to check me in. And I explain to her: I can't check in at the machines. I just want to get my unaccompanied minor. Then I want to explain that she isn't actually "unaccompanied" as they yell back and forth across the crows She has an unaccompanied minor who has ALREADY LANDED!! Because she is accompanied by the flight attendant, which we paid an addition$100 dollars to have accompany her. I am flushed, embarrassed that I am not very early to pick up my "accompanied" minor. People are staring. I have flowers and a sign, after all; nevermind the attendants yelling over the crows from desk to desk stating that I am NOT on time.
Security is horrible. I take off my shoes (no socks, gross) and put my bag in a bin. I've done this a million times... but, CRAP! I forgot to put my liquids in a ziplock baggie! Don't worry... the security gentleman chastised me then gave me one. But, this was one complication too many. Now, I am in tears, barefoot, my bag and baggie in a bin, holding a bouquet of flowers and a sign. My phone rings. It is the accompaniment meant to accompany my minor. She wants to know where I am. She wants to know if I'm coming to the gate. I'm trying! I'm in security. I'm trying to not cry on the phone with her. She offers to bring her to security and while I wanted to be at the gate when she walked out of the plane it is too late. The security gentleman is chastising, again, and the person behind me is, no doubt, wanting to scream at me for not following the Experienced Flyer guidelines. I acquiesce and realize that I will just have to wait by the shuttle, just outside of security.
She is one of the last off of the shuttle, coming around from the unexpected side of the shuttle. I try to maintain some composure. But I see her chin that I like to squeeze and her teeth and her big beautiful eyes behind those glasses and that hair and those chicken legs and that huge HUGE backpack on that little tiny girls back and I lose it. I am sobbing. We run at each other and hug, she's crying too, now. The flight attendant, a girl looking 18 years of age stands to the side, awkwardly. I know I have to sign the receipt of child and she tells me I can have my moment first.
We leave, me still carrying the flowers, because she would rather carry her blanket and goldfish crackers (extra flavor blasted) that I brought her. I keep touching her cute nose and chin, and for once she lets me do it without moaning or pulling away.
We stopped for pizza, which doesn't matter much. Then drove home. Joe had just gotten home from work a few minutes earlier and rushed out to see her, scooping her up like she was still 4.
They had the next day all to themselves, since I had work. They went swimming and soaked each other up.
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