It turns out my kids are scared of people in uniform. They seem to think that any deviation through security could result in being shot to death on the spot. I'm thinking of qualifying for a concealed weapons permit. So I can be armed at all times. I can see that change doing wonders for the amount of obedience we are currently lacking. Because everyone knows that intimidation is the cornerstone of good parenting. I'm just saying.
So, security went swimmingly. They removed their shoes, surrendered their gameboys, kept their hyperactivity under control, and sauntered through security as if they've been traveling their whole lives. Warming my heart even further, they calmly reclaimed their things and quietly stuffed them back into their bags. At which point they stood in a herd blocking all other travelers from exiting the security line while I anxiously tried to cram my laptop back into my bag and slide into my shoes so that I could start kicking them out of the way of other travelers.
Having navigated security, it was then time to address the broken arm issue. It's amazing how quickly ibuprofen changes this kid's attitude and how well a jacket can work as a sling. Tears to hyper in 15 minutes. It was magic, I tell you. And because of the pain, he also slept the entire flight.
And yes, it is possible for me to carry the camera bag, Nate's backpack, my bag of clothing, my laptop bag, and the Nintendo DS case. I could not, however, carry Nate who cried along beside me through 3 airports. Did you know that JetBlue airlines does not own any ace bandages in any of their airports? It's also good to note that no gift shops sell them. Antacids, hemorrhoid cream, tweezers, but no ace bandages. At least not in Long Beach, Boston, JFK, or Orlando. Just so you know.
In the interest of full disclosure, I should also bring to your attention that if you forget to get cash before you leave on a trip, you should stop by an ATM in the airport. It is unwise to completely forget that you have no cash and then promptly pick up a rental car to your hotel. In Florida, there will be at least 4 toll booths between the rental car place and your hotel. Or a bank of any kind. Not that you would have any clue as to where a bank might be. Although I will take one more opportunity to praise navigation systems, without which I would still be lost in Florida somewhere. In case you're wondering, it isn't possible to play stupid on every toll booth between you and your hotel. They keep track. At some point, preferably before the embarrassment of the first toll booth, you really will have to shake down all of your kids for cash, promising with crossed fingers that you will pay them back. This would not be a good time to brandish your concealed weapon, as that actually constitutes armed robbery. In all 50 states.
The hotel was tons of fun. At least once we realized that our children were smart enough to return to the office when they couldn't remember what room we were in. Next time, I'm packing a sharpie and writing their room number on their hands. And naturally, we traveled through 3 airports and 4 time zones just to sit around playing gameboy as a group.
Which made no sense to me when this was waiting outside:
But hey- it's vacation. What do I care if they want to spend it inside playing video games? I took that opportunity to take a nap. At which point another child disappeared. Possibly lured by the siren song of the water slides? I can reassure you that security handled the matter with utmost compassion and diplomacy, right up to the point where said child was found hiding under a bed in the room, pouting. And yet again, I contemplated the joy of handgun ownership. Not to make use of it. . . they hope.
Said child undead, we took off for the beach. Which was lovely. Warm water, decent sand, highly poisonous man of war jellyfish:
And being as it's deadly to people, even weeks after it dies, Tyler was compelled to touch it. Repeatedly. Because he loves the adrenaline rush. And the adoration of the crowd. Teen years are gonna be fun. Note: I should point out that he never touched a tentacle, only the top part of the sea creature, which has no stingers.
Please excuse our little "edit". His exposed buttcrack embarrasses him. Unlike Nate, who is quite willing to expose his entire butt at the beach. He loves a little wind on his crack.
And on that note, I will finish this marathon post tomorrow. . .