* If you had driven by the departure area of DFW on Tuesday, you would have seen a pregnant lady sitting on a bench next to two carts loaded down with 2 large suitcases, 2 large duffel bags, a giant stroller box, and 2 carry-on bags. You would have seen her husband standing next to the aforementioned luggage with a look on his face that said: “Dang. Babies need a lot of crap.” The good news: The really really really nice man at the check-in counter didn’t charge us for the extra piece of baggage. (We were one over the limit.) He also didn’t charge us for the stroller being oversized. We did have to do a bit of shuffling and re-packing to get all the bags to about 50 pounds each, but he was really gracious. As the scale wildly fluctuated between 45 and 65, he’d look for it to scroll past 50. Then, he’d say: “Yeah, good enough.” If he had let the scale settle on a weight, I’m sure it would have been over. I am therefore renaming this unnamed man Mr. Hero Baggage Check-In Man. If you see him, tell him hi.

* Possibly due to the presence of shiny, metal-wrapped rectangular packets in my carry-on (otherwise known as Strawberry Frosted Pop-Tarts), my bag was searched. The guy who searched it was really goofy. So, I figured I’d joke back with him. As he quizzically looked through the Pop-Tarts, granola bars, raisins, jelly-beans, and chocolate that I packed in preparation for the plane ride, the apocolypse, or even being stuck for hours on the runway a la Jet Blue, I said: “Here’s a tip for you…. always sit next to the pregnant lady. She’s got snacks.” He laughed and said: “Here’s a tip for you…. never sit by a minister, it’s bad luck.” I looked at my seminary-degreed hubby and busted into laughter.

* For the first time in my life, I flew through the airport in Frankfort, Germany. Now, I’ve been in quite a few airports. This one gets the rating S. For STINKS. (Ok, it really has a stronger rating than that, but I’m trying to keep this a family-friendly blog. You are free to think of any other negative word that starts with an S. I promise that you cannot think too strongly. Yeah, even that word is appropriate here.) What was wrong with it? Although it was clean and the people were friendly, it had worse organization than a third-world refugee camp. Avoid this airport at all costs. (Hah! Take that Frankfurt Airport! Now, all 10 people who regularly read my blog will boycott your airport! Your profits will crumble and you will become only a shadow of what you were in your glory days! You will rue the day you made me walk all around looking for the check-in desk in Terminal 1, Section B before finding our gate in Terminal 1, Section A! I see a future where thousands of angry protestors will descend upon you and victoriously lift your stones from their foundation, tearing down your tyranny in the same manner that their parents tore down the Berlin Wall! Stand in awe before the power of the mabBlab!)

Ahem. Sorry about that. I got on a soapbox and got a bit carried away.

P.S. Who in India has started reading this blog? I am fascinated. I’m also getting a big head about my international importance. Then again, when my friend in Asia checked the blog, it showed up a dot in Portugal. So, the person who appears to be in India is most likely just a college buddy in Hoboken, New Jersey. Sigh….. my international fame is slipping away.

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