Well, sort of lazy. First part of the day included a 5 am wake up time in order to get the girls to the airport for their 7 am flight. I had a small almost-scuffle with the counter lady, when she told me that I could not have a gate pass. I always get a gate pass. Sometimes, they limit us to one (poor WD), but usually, we get two. So I calmly asked to speak to a supervisor. While waiting, different ticket agent told me ( authoritatively) that the only way to get a gate pass is to call the reservation line and change the reservation. I said, “are you the supervisor?” and he said “No, but I know the rules.” I calmly let him know I would continue to wait for the supervisor. (WD chuckled and said quietly into my ear, “if you aren’t the supervisor then just butt out and shut the fuck up!” which perfectly expressed my insides, but the girls hate it when I get snippy, so I was keeping it in check) The supervisor came over, heard the agent’s story of my egregious attempt to get a gate pass, smiled at the girls. To Lemon: how old are you, sweetie? And Lemon says she’s 14. To Mouse: how about you? And again, with the honesty and the 12 years old (for another month). “Give mom a gate pass!” she tells the agent with obvious incredulity that she even had to say it. The agent fights! Explains that it’s against the rules. “No, it’s not. Give mom a gate pass!” Agent tries yet again to prevent the evil of my going through security with my daughters: “They are 16 and 14. They don’t need it.” I interject/reiterate. “They’re 14 and 12.” Supervisor repeats “Give mom a gate pass” Nasty ticket agent says “they were born in 1996 and 1998.” Which is true. Of course, supervisor prevailed, but it would have been kinda funny if we were denied because of the ticket agent’s inability to do math.
Funny in a non-funny “Mouse is hyperventilating” kind of way. (I have no doubt Lemon would be fine.)
guess we are on notice, though, that once Lemon is 16 (in approximately 18 months), they’ll be going it even more alone. Like I told them this morning, “We’ll just drop you curb side with a ‘get outta the cah!’”
Ha ha. Funny mommy.
When they were officially “unaccompanied minors” (before Lemon was 14), we were required to wait at the gate until the plane took off. We don’t have to any more, but definitely want to be there if the plane is turned around or delayed at the gate to the point of taking the girls off. But WD was outside the security area, so I left the gate, and we sat at a food court with breakfast wraps looking out the window at their plane until it was in the sky.
Then home. And sleep! Much-needed sleep. After several days of late bed-times and super-early wake up times (thanks to soccer, doctor appointments, court appearances, etc.), I was exhausted.
I have some of my favorite people coming over in a bit to play Mah Jongg with me. I must pry myself from my new blogging app on my iPad, the one that lets me do this:
with the swipe of a finger, and go buy my friends and I some nibbles & prosecco for our afternoon of chit chat and game-playing.
What do you think of my first iPad post? Hmm?
** Updated to add – bummer that the app does not trigger my WordPress automatic twitter notification when I publish a post, and the app doesn’t have the ability to do so itself, either. Most of the comments about the app address this point, so I trust they’ll fix it soon.
(photo: Bar Harbor, Maine, Labor Day, 2009)