She had to have the Superman backpack.
I tried to hand over the Panda one, but she refused, clutching the Superman one to her chest.
"I want this," she told me firmly. "Not the panda."
I didn't feel like arguing. We would be leaving for the airport in two hours and there was no way I could deal with a meltdown. I was already on edge because I'm not a fan of flying to begin with. If the plane gives a jolt, I assume we're about ready to spiral to the ground.
"Fine. Use the Superman one. What toys do you want to take to play with on the plane?"
I should have known better than to say something like that. You NEVER give a three year old a choice of toys.
"I want this, and this, and this," Natalie said, pointing to various toys. She lifted her My Size Rapunzel. "I want this." Her voice was muffled against Rapunzel's hair.
Wouldn't that be hilarious to see someone carrying a My Size Rapunzel around the airport? Actually, if I spotted someone with a giant Rapunzel, I'd at first assume it was a blowup doll. Then I'd snap a picture of it, post it on Facebook and say, "Someone was in the terminal with a blowup doll. Ew."
"No Rapunzel doll. She's too big. And you can't bring all your toys."
"Fine," Natalie grumbled.
We were getting ready to fly to Texas, to spend Christmas with my family since Tom is in Korea. I'm an awful packer. My suitcase was sitting on my bed, already stuffed. I was worried that I had gone over the fifty pound limit but I had to take all the stuff. I needed my jeans. I needed my shirts. Okay, I didn't need my straightener...actually, I did, because what if my hair turned into a giant puffball?
Natalie's stuff was in the suitcase too. (Tommy had his own.) Did she need all the cute clothes? Surely she could wear something twice. Yes, so I could pull out the shirt that says Fashionista...no, but wait, she needed that shirt, it was adorable. Hmm. Perhaps the jean skirt, she didn't need the jean skirt...but...the jean skirt went with the Fashionista skirt really well...and she needed the brown boots, the brown boots made certain outfits.
Oh, well. If I had to fork over the cash if I went over, I'd do it. I couldn't get rid of a thing.
The drive to the Denver Airport went well.
And then we got into the Southwest line, and the worker told me to put my suitcase on the scale.
Moment of truth...
"You're over the limit," he told me.
I mean, I suspected, but since I could still pick my suitcase up, I figured it may NOT be over fifty pounds. Usually I know it's over if I can't lift it. I could still lift my suitcase so...
...but wait, maybe it WAS over and I was just getting stronger! Yes! I had been lifting five pound weights around the house...
Okay, it was only like two times in the past month but still, maybe that was enough. And I've had to carry Natalie more than usual, since Tom isn't around to do it.
I'm getting stronger! Sure, it means I have to pay a hefty fee for my bag but--
"I'm kidding," the worker smirked. "It's only 32 pounds."
Oh. So I wasn't any stronger.
At least I didn't have to pay. That was something.
"Your flight is delayed though," the worker continued.
"Oh, haha," I said, not believing him.
"No really." He twisted his computer screen around and tapped it. "Delayed till 720."
My heart dropped. Our flight was supposed to leave at 5. And now we were meant to entertain two children until 720?
I wanted to call up the pilot and shriek, "What is the MEANING of this nonsense? I demand the plane to leave at the scheduled time."
Thank goodness my Mom was there to help. She'd take the kids around to help get their energy out.
Finally, it was time to board, and a couple of hours later we were in Texas.
I never want to fly again.
Unfortunately, I have to get back home on the 29th so I have no choice.
With no help this time.