Second Chance Saturday

So tomorrow will be my second attempt to fly back home to Idaho from our staycation spot here in Michigan.

I will have Monkey 1

Monkey 2

My 5 bags of luggage, 1 car seat, 2 carry-ons, and a partridge in a pear tree.

This is our plan, as illustrated by my photoshop paintbrush because I have not deduced how to insert text onto a picture. And not from lack of trying.

(Naturally I did not mean that I drew the map, only the 4 dots and corresponding numbers. As you can see in the Gulf of Mexico, the map is courtesy of digital-topo-maps.com. Hope they don't mind me using it.)

Should all go according to schedule, we will leave Pat the Bunny's house at 5:00am and arrive at Point 1 in plenty of time for our departure.

We will travel through time to get to Chicago at the exact same hour we took off from Detroit.
It will be a miracle.
Or a different time zone, but if you choose to see the cup as half empty, so be it.

The children and I will then enjoy a fun filled four hour layover. Yes, I said 4. I will no doubt be starving for lunch, but the airport eateries will likely have not gotten the memo that I might want lunch at 9 am. Instead I will have to suffer the smell of fast food breakfast, which totally turns my stomach. Always has. Warm syrup= disgusting.

Then we will board an airplane that will insist on flying to Salt Lake City instead of directly to Boise, and will not afford my antsy children to opportunity to deplane once we land there.
I will wait until the plane clears of Salt Lake passengers and then allow them to run and jump in the aisle as necessary for my sanity and theirs.
I will pretend not to notice the looks I receive from old people, who never had to travel by plane with toddlers. And if they had, their children would have sat sedately in their seats with nary a patent leather Mary Jane touching the seat back in front of them.

Then we will take our seats and endure the short trip up to Boise.

My friend Laura will accept my crabby children and my 2 carry-ons into her waiting vehicle while I go and retrieve my luggage, car seat, partridge, and pear tree.

We will then drive 40 minutes to Mountain Home, where I will enter my house for the first time in 10 weeks and 1 day.
I will be thankful that my friend Nikki has turned up the heat, and I will hope that my van starts.

It will be good to be home.

And nothing will go awry. Right?
I'll let you know.