We are headed to Florida Friday for a few days of fun and sun. I’m looking forward to it, but I’m a little apprehensive, only because goofy stuff happens to us when we travel. It seems as if we rarely make it to our destination and back without a bump or two along the way. Twice we’ve battled lost luggage. The first time we flew to San Juan but Hubby’s clothes didn’t, leaving him to spend the first two days of a cruise in a gift shop swimsuit. He was mighty glad to see his underwear when it landed on the pier at St. Thomas. The second time Teen Angel’s suitcase didn’t follow us home from South Carolina, and we spent a frenzied 12 hours tracking it down and getting it shipped home in time for me to wash her clothes and pack them for camp the next day. When the suitcase arrived on our doorstep it had a big hole in the middle of it, and that started a whole new headache with Northwest Airlines trying to get the suitcase replaced. I finally got a new suitcase out of it but not without exhibiting some very unbecoming behaviors.
Illness is another favorite pastime of ours when traveling. We’ve thrown up in some beautiful corners of the world. Teen Angel heaved in the middle of the Magic Express shuttle bus at Disneyworld at 6am the day we left Orlando. That’s how we discovered she is a little susceptible to motion sickness. I too, discovered I get queasy on buses during an all day excursion through the rain forest in Martinique. We made seven stops that day to see the sights, and I threw up between all seven, thanks to a route called “zig zag road”. At each tourist stop I would get a gift sack, throw up in it during the ride and dispose of it at the next stop. I’m all about systems, you know. Fresh pineapple at the first stop? Noooo thanks. Rum sample at the third? Heck no! Isn’t the rain forest beautiful? I don’t know. All I’ve seen is the inside of a gift bag. See the volcano? Don’t bother me now. I’m focusing on breathing. Papa T. takes the prize for vacation illness. He had a bad reaction to his motion sickness patch on a cruise and started acting so odd we seriously thought he’d had a stroke. It took two days of craziness before we read the warning label for the patch and discovered he had six reasons not to use the darn thing. The minute we took it off, he returned to his old self and quit having nightmares about old girlfriends.
The weirdest thing that happened to us occurred at the Memphis Airport. We had only a few minutes between flights, and I barely had time to use the restroom. When I ran back to our gate, I found Hubby standing there with a priest and security. Well, this can’t be good, I said to myself. And how the heck did he get into trouble so fast? I was only gone for a minute, I thought. It turns out there was a wacky lady on our first flight that had smuggled a dog on the plane in her purse. Someone had complained about her, and for some reason she thought it was Hubby. The minute I had left for the restroom she had walked up to him, pulled her false teeth OUT of her mouth and launched into a wild toothless ramble in his face, waving her teeth in the air. Now, Hubby can’t stand strangers getting really close to him, and his patience could fit into a thimble, so it was with great restraint that he told her to put her *&!# teeth back in her head and to back up several steps. She didn’t listen very well. He alerted security, and the airlines launched an investigation onto the whole dog issue. The priest wasn’t a part of the action. He just stood around and watched because it was so entertaining. The rest of the trip home was uneventful, even though we were on pins and needles the whole time because the airlines let the crazy lady on that flight, too…with the dog in her purse. At least she kept her teeth in her mouth.
In a perverse way, I can’t wait for the adventure that’s in store for us this weekend. It does make things interesting. We’ve had more than our share of adventure over the years though, and a little “uneventfulness” would be nice. So if you see the Hula’s in the airport this weekend, just smile and wave and hope for the best. Oh, and keep your teeth in your mouth. We don’t want any trouble.
Illness is another favorite pastime of ours when traveling. We’ve thrown up in some beautiful corners of the world. Teen Angel heaved in the middle of the Magic Express shuttle bus at Disneyworld at 6am the day we left Orlando. That’s how we discovered she is a little susceptible to motion sickness. I too, discovered I get queasy on buses during an all day excursion through the rain forest in Martinique. We made seven stops that day to see the sights, and I threw up between all seven, thanks to a route called “zig zag road”. At each tourist stop I would get a gift sack, throw up in it during the ride and dispose of it at the next stop. I’m all about systems, you know. Fresh pineapple at the first stop? Noooo thanks. Rum sample at the third? Heck no! Isn’t the rain forest beautiful? I don’t know. All I’ve seen is the inside of a gift bag. See the volcano? Don’t bother me now. I’m focusing on breathing. Papa T. takes the prize for vacation illness. He had a bad reaction to his motion sickness patch on a cruise and started acting so odd we seriously thought he’d had a stroke. It took two days of craziness before we read the warning label for the patch and discovered he had six reasons not to use the darn thing. The minute we took it off, he returned to his old self and quit having nightmares about old girlfriends.
The weirdest thing that happened to us occurred at the Memphis Airport. We had only a few minutes between flights, and I barely had time to use the restroom. When I ran back to our gate, I found Hubby standing there with a priest and security. Well, this can’t be good, I said to myself. And how the heck did he get into trouble so fast? I was only gone for a minute, I thought. It turns out there was a wacky lady on our first flight that had smuggled a dog on the plane in her purse. Someone had complained about her, and for some reason she thought it was Hubby. The minute I had left for the restroom she had walked up to him, pulled her false teeth OUT of her mouth and launched into a wild toothless ramble in his face, waving her teeth in the air. Now, Hubby can’t stand strangers getting really close to him, and his patience could fit into a thimble, so it was with great restraint that he told her to put her *&!# teeth back in her head and to back up several steps. She didn’t listen very well. He alerted security, and the airlines launched an investigation onto the whole dog issue. The priest wasn’t a part of the action. He just stood around and watched because it was so entertaining. The rest of the trip home was uneventful, even though we were on pins and needles the whole time because the airlines let the crazy lady on that flight, too…with the dog in her purse. At least she kept her teeth in her mouth.
In a perverse way, I can’t wait for the adventure that’s in store for us this weekend. It does make things interesting. We’ve had more than our share of adventure over the years though, and a little “uneventfulness” would be nice. So if you see the Hula’s in the airport this weekend, just smile and wave and hope for the best. Oh, and keep your teeth in your mouth. We don’t want any trouble.
2 comments:
Best of luck traveling. Hey - cool Blog name!
Funny post! Remind me to only travel with you on the prairies!
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