Remember this post and how after so many travels, yet even with my kids, I specially agree with this so very much:
Then read my story:
Everything happened so fast. I don’t remember packing nor remember how we had managed to accumulate so much more than what we had brought. I do remember, though, counting all the bags we had. I counted them in our hotel, and again when we put them in the car, and when we returned the rental car and when we got to the airline counter and then again when they were being weighed. I counted and counted. That turned into my specialty. Between all of us we had over 15 bags. (Remember it wasn’t only my family of 5 who tagged along). Which leaves me convinced of my new theory: No one could ever possibly enjoy being behind such a large party at the check-in counter, or any kind of counter for a matter fact. We brought spice to the mellow and slow pace Long Beach airport, in other words: true commotion. This brings me to the next part.
Having checked in most of our bags, we are left each with only our laptops, purses and carry ones (or so we thought). We let our guard down (finally) and we sit and relax waiting for our flight. The worse was “over.” And then we keep hearing the TSA agents calling through intercom for an unidentified passenger to come retrieve their bag left at security checkpoint. They called over and over again. They really sounded like a broken record I thought so I turn to my mother in law and tell her: “Who would be that dumb to leave their carry-on at the scanning machines?”
We board our flight. Halfway through our flight my feet get cold, and I want to change from my flip-flops to my FAVORITE pair of boots. After all is 40 degrees once we get home and my brain is reluctantly adjusting to a dreaded Utah freezing mode. I also think it might be a good idea to change baby’s almost-soaked-through-diaper which cannot withstand one. more. bottle. ( I have a two-year-old who still drinks the bottle, we have an addict in our home…more about this on a future post). And that was IT. That is when I got it. I was the DUMB ONE (… all along)!
My carry-on and my favorite boots arrive tomorrow; screw the diapers (Ha!).