Airport

My aunt in northwest Wisconsin invited a couple kids to come and spend a couple weeks with her this summer. We set up the dates, bought the tickets, and the two "chosen ones" awaited the day with breathless anticipation. Charles has been talking about airplanes for a couple years now. "Do you think I'll get to ride on a plane when I'm still a kid, mom? What does the earth look like when you are up so high? Do the people look like ants?" I decided that Charles and Caroline should go, since Jonathan had gotten to go to Seattle last summer, and he has a summer job anyway.

I bought the tickets over the phone from Delta, and discovered that if you want to talk to a person while purchasing your tickets, there's an extra fee. Because my children would be unaccompanied minors, I was told there was a $100 fee to cover the cost of an attendant taking them from the ticket desk to the airplane, etc. I would have felt better taking them to the gate, but under no circumstances was that allowed according to the salesman on the other side of the phone. The big day arrived, and I decided to take the entire clan, since I was afterall, only taking Charles and Caroline as far as the ticket desk. I had gotten the kids new outfits for their plane trip and packed them sack lunches with their favorite sack lunch treats. I decided against a backpack full of activities figuring they would just leave it on the plane or somewhere else, and they'd probably victimize the person next to them with non-stop conversation anyway.

On the way to the airport, I called Jon to make sure I remembered the directions. Not only did he give me the directions, but then went on to say where to park, where to go in, what to ask for at the ticket desk, etc. I already was well aware of what to do, however, when he started giving instruction, I went into slightly comatose, obedient child mode and disengaged my brain. Jon was under the distinct impression that the children were flying AirTran so he instructed me to go to the North Terminal. I parked, got everyone hearded into the the AirTran ticket desk, was redirected inside after a few minutes, went to the kiosks, typed in the confirmation number and was promptly rejected. At this point my brain reengaged and I realized that the kids were flying Delta! We walked through the Airport to the South Terminal and tried again. This time I was told to avoid the kiosk and wait for a rep because of the unaccompanied minor situation. I thought we were going to be in that line forever, as did the clan. One of the guys behind the desk was one of 6 kids and was very interested in the family. Oliver was equally interested in making an impression, and did his usual tricks, which were less than appreciated by me. When finally I was done at the desk and thought I was awaiting an attendant to take the children to the gate, I was handed a security pass and told that I would be taking the children to the gate. Well, you can well imagine my dismay, but having not been to the airport in over 7 years, decided not to make a fuss because how bad could it be?

I barked orders to everyone to hold hands, and off we went. What a nightmare! The place was packed, and thanks to a few very nice security personnel, we were able to get around the main part of the crowds, then onto the actual check point, I had to take off everyone's shoes and socks, and all the random bits of trash that occupies the storage bin on a stroller, besides the sack lunches, purse, baby toys, etc. Well, suddenly the security guards were very interested in the contents of my purse on the x-ray machine and I wondered what could be possibly going on. Then it hit me- I had left my pepper spray in my purse because I thought I wasn't going through security. Well, no big loss, since I already had a backup at home, and it cost $16. Then security guard sternly motioned me to the table. "you'll have to come with me, ma'am." I avoided rolling my eyes and explained about the pepper spray. She opened my purse and perused the contents and then found my very wonderful pocket knife, a mini, which cost about $40 and I use this thing constantly. I love it. She held it in front of me with her eye brows doing the talking. " That is a very small pocket knife, and if you are going to take it, I'd like to get it back because I'm merely dropping two kids at the gate." She just stared at me with a look that said, "You've got to be kidding me." I was getting highly irritated, and she called over another security guard. He carefully looked over the pepper spray. "Ma'am, this is illegal in the state of Georgia because it is considered a concealed weapon." I looked him over, and responded," Well, the Capitol security must not think so as I'm down there all the time, and they give it back to me when I leave the building. And quite frankly, my chief concern is the safety of my children and myself." He reflected on that and said,"I'm going to be keeping this." Well, fine. I turned back to the pocket knife confiscator, and remaining calm and sweet urged her to allow me to come back through there and get my pocket knife. She merely gave me the blank cow in a hail storm look, shook her head slowly and pocketed the knife. I considered pitching a fit, but did I really have the time or energy- No. Off I went with the bins full of our random stuff, and looked for a place to sit everyone down in order to put shoes on feet. Of course, all this time I'm being treated like a criminal the children are antagonizing Vivian, Oliver is getting into trouble, etc. The guy held up behind us felt quite sorry for me and annoyed with the security guard, and vented his feelings quietly cussing them out under his breath. I didn't hear him, Jonathan told me later. But it did make me feel a little vindicated that they were treating me badly. The security guards forget who they serve. They are there to make the masses safe, not suspect!

Off we went to find an elevator and get on the train. I had visions of leaving a kid behind on a the train, but we made it through with little incident. As we stood waiting to board Charles said, "Oh, are we taking a train instead of an airplane to Wisconsin?" I was in no mood to explain still fuming about my pocket knife and called a halt to all questions. When on the train, and one stop a woman boarded and stood next to Oliver. She was wearing a very pleasant perfume. Oliver breathed deeply. "Mmmmm. It smells like flowers in here," he said.

We arrived in the airport parking lot at 11:13am. We finally arrived at the gate at 1:15! After I checked in the kids with the attendant behind the gate desk, I hearded everyone over to a corner for goodbyes and remaining consultation. Speaking to Charles and Caroline I said," Try not to talk anyone's ear off, and for heavens sake, don't tell all the family secrets." Charles immediately said," Oh, you mean like the time we accidentally left Vivian home in her crib and we had to turn around on the highway to go back home and get her?" I sighed. "Yes, Charles, exactly."

After saying goodbye, the children were escorted onto the plane, and we stuck around until the plane was about to take off, just to make sure that there weren't any issues. By the time we got back through the airport, through the parking lot, and home it was 3:36! Next time Jon and I are going to play "Rock, Scissors,Paper" to see who has to take the kids to the airport.