Just a warning, this is 3 minutes you'll never get back....
My day started off splendid with the 12 miler. I got almost 11 miles in and kinda accidentally got stuck in the midst of a monsoon. Getting pelted by sand and all. No big. I sprinted back to the house, was a teeny bit bummed that I didn't get all 12, but went about my business with packing.
PSA- Two things were happening tonight. 1. Our dear friends were celebrating lots of milestones and having a fab party in which I was supposed to attend 2. The husband had a band commitment. Did I tell you guys he plays in a band? That's neither here or there but they've been together for a zillion years and they're pretty darn good.
So back to my story...We get to the airport after driving through the monsoon that was still happening and are delayed. #nbd. We've got a little bit 'o leeway with our connection in the ATL.
We get on this flight to the ATL and 3 1/2 year old and I are sitting a few rows behind the husband and almost 7 year old.
Oh and we are sitting next to this guy, who legit wants to slit his wrists that he's sitting in the same row as a 3 year old.
Pretty sure he is praying in the pic. Praying that we will disappear into thin air. Praying that 3 year old will stop talking. Praying for anything but the situation in which he is living. Yes, I realize the fact that I took a pic is a violation of privacy, or a hippa violation, or defamation of character, or something bad, but he hated us. So there. #justified
Oh and then I'm scrolling through my pics and 3 year old says "mommy, why do you have a picture of that boy right there?" as the man who hates us is sitting right next to us. Not kidding. #idie #busted #redhanded But he hated us, so again.... #justified.
Okay so we go in for landing in the ATL, still sitting next to the praying guy who hates us, when we see the runway and the plane goes straight airborne. I'm thinking A) we're dying B) we almost hit an innocent plane sitting on the runway and the pilot had to pull up or C) Praying man prayed for something bad to escape us.
The whole plane full of people erupts into controlled chaos. At this point, the pilot comes on and is all "yeah folks, we've got zero visibility up in here due to these here storms so we had to retract the attempted landing and we're gonna need to look for another runway." I'm all "well I'm glad we didn't die but that blows because our connection to the C-Bus is leaving in 20 minutes and there's no way we're gonna make it and I've got my outfit all planned for this party and everything"
So he circles for awhile, we land, and original C-Bus bird that we're supposed to be on is long gone. I go to the ticket counter and I immediately tell the hubs "let me do the talkin'" I find that the soonest we can get out is 7:30. That's clearly not gonna work. After the girl that I'm sweet talking starts typing a bunch of (what I suspect to be) emails to her friends and then makes severals (what I suspect to be) phone calls to plan her night out in the ATL, she comes back and says she can get us all on stand by for 5:30. Of course, I need to know exact statistics. She says there are 2 in front of us but it's looking good. I'm thinking #hollah.
At this point, it's basically 3:00 p.m., the little one is becoming a total #pita, and it's clearly it's time to go for lunch, preferably somewhere that serves peen greej.
5 p.m. rolls around and we're at the stand by gate. We wait, everything's cool. I'm convinced that no one is getting on this god forsaken flight and we're just going through the motions and we'll move on to the confirmed 7:30 and everyone's plans are screwed. The End.
Suddenly, at 5:26, our beautiful last name comes over the PA system. Ticket agent girl says "all 4 of you are on." We are legit publicly rejoicing in glee. At this exact moment, a family of three, all huffing and puffing, is sprinting down the terminal heading towards our gate. It all happened in slow mo....
No lie. And I'm pretty sure I heard Chariots of Fire playing for them in the background. So the ticket agent says "okay, this family of 3 is actually confirmed on this flight so only one of you can go." The husband turns to me and tells me to go to my party. I tell him to go to his show, which is actually a contracted commitment. We go round and round for 2 minutes and the ticket agent girl says someone has to make a decision because we have to shut the gate. And in the meantime, both of us are thinking, the person who doesn't get to go has to fly with the most tired 3 year old on the planet. And the person who does get to go gets to take a nap on the plane.
So the husband goes. I'm thinking, I've got this. #nbd. Then 3 year old starts acting a fool. Telling me she's gotta pee, poop, her head hurts, her belly hurts, she's hungry (as she shoves crackers in her mouth)...basically just the old classic tired 3 year old stuff but she was basically acting like a drunk monkey.
So we get settled at our 7:30 gate. Obvi it's no secret that I'm obsessed with Breaking Bad. Out of nowhere comes "Heisenberg."
So he sits next to us, we start chatting it up and my kids are enthralled.
We talk Breaking Bad, he is entertaining my kids left and right, we are chatting it up and I'm pretty sure he was a gift from above. He is a children's entertainer and musician and earns his living that way. But more importantly, he was an enormous side traction for me and the monkeys. He kept my kids entertained with magic tricks and songs during what should have been a train wreck. Oh and he obvi loves Breaking Bad so I was all over that.
7 p.m. rolls around and it's time to board the 7:30 plane. We're all "wheeee! we're finally going home!"
The plane is fully loaded, if all goes well, we are back in the C-Bus by 9 p.m. #nbd. But then things get cray again. The pilot comes on with "yeah folks.... our plane is broken and you're all gonna need to get off immediately. But don't worry, we're trying to find you another one. It may be 30 minutes, it may be tomorrow."
At this point, I can't decide if I want to cry, kill my husband, or curse the man who I think prayed bad things. In the meantime, almost 7 year old starts crying crocodile tears because she misses #Runnerdog.
So we pack up our crap again, get off the plane, and wander. At this point, I'm pulling out the big guns. You want a King Size bag of gummy Lifesavers? You got it, kids.
We finally get a gate, and an alleged plane, and it's finally time to board again. So we go through the whole rigamaro again, all while I'm trying to figure out who exactly I should be mad at. And in the meantime, the 3 year old legit does. not. stop. talking. Almost 7 year old and I can not even form a sentence between the two of us.
We finally land in the C-Bus and we're all pretty much certifiably delirious.
And the night ended like this. After 40 days and nights of travel. At 11 p.m. We are all grease monkeys and covered in travelers germs. And probably bed bugs.