Grr

I'm checking in from the airport in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It's the Gerald R. Ford Airport, which is fun because he was POTUS when I was born.

The airport code here is GRR, hence the title of this post.  But it also indicates my mood. It's 4:30 am, and I'm on day three of no enough sleep.

When I checked in this morning, I was behind a huge, weird family. Two parents, eight kids all headed to Salt Lake City. Five of the kids are teens. One of them is wearing a hijab and appears to be visually impaired. Three of the kids are 10 or under and one has a broken leg and is in a wheelchair.

Mom just came around and passed out gum to the kids. Hijab took watermelon.  The non-Hijab kids are all dressed in sporty clothes. Mossy Oak, Nike, Under Armor.  Lots of what I call "soccer sandals".

Hijab is wearing a long skirt, a sweater and ballet flats.

It's interesting. They bunched up in TSA cluelessly, but now they're sitting in a row, all too tired to do much other than sit and maybe look at their phones or tablets.

They seem to get along.

That said, I'm hoping it isn't a full flight, I don't end up sitting with the modern day Bradys, and that I can sleep from here to Balmer and from Balmer home.

A

Comments

Don't leave us in suspense! What happened?
Pointless Boob said…
So did you end up in a seat in the middle of the Mormon Bunch? Did the Duggers behave themselves so you could get some sleep on the flight? I need more details.
Hey, Old School Allie Cat. I hear you're going through some stuff...like a few others of us. Hugs and whatnot. I am going to drop by to make sure you stay on top of the stuff and not the other way around.

BTW, what about that pepper jam?

(I'm Raghead the Fiendly Neighbourhood Terrorist in case you didn't know.)