Here's a quick snap I impulsively shot when Pedro (a.k.a. Dada to the small fry) dropped us at Don Muang airport at 5:20a.m. (Per today's earlier post, I still haven't worked out how to keep vertical photos vertical. Sorry!)
Nathan and Alec really dug the psychadelic spaghetti strand-like electric light sculpture above the moving walkway that links Terminals B and C at Chicago's O'Hare. Not having given a hoot the last 10 times I've trudged under that thing during solo marathon trips, I now have a renewed appreciation for it, because it revived my little monsters' flagging spirits for the last quarter of our slog.
Hang on a tick; we had some more serendipity to help us keep our eyes on the prize. Nathan felt particularly chuffed that his name graces a national hot dog chain. Soon after this snap, jet lag took over and he collapsed in a heap on a narrow chair with barbaric metal armrests. Alec soon followed suit. Good, I thought; they'll have a nap before our last flight, and feel fresher when Nanny (i.e. maternal grandpa) greets us at the last airport. Then a Delta Airlines representative announced that a last-minute gate change would require all of us hapless souls to hoof it down to the opposite end of the B concourse. We...were not amused.
Aside from one suitcase that contained Jim Thompson fabric for my mum (I came THIS CLOSE to carrying it on) and all of my kids' clothes going to Boston by accident, we came through unscathed. These boys are troupers. They are so so travel-seasoned by now that young Nathan's passport will need extension pages soon. And Big Bro should pat himself on the back for being such a big boy this time: Not only did he resolutely wear his (heavy with toys and books) Harry Potter backpack during miles of airport hiking; but also he pulled Small Bro's roller bag after the little(r) guy pooped out on it at the midway point. Nathan, my man, you're growing up!
These last two photos show the kids perched on Mima and Nanny's couches, which offer inexpressible comfort compared with, say, the chair where poor Nathan napped for all of seven minutes in Atlanta's airport. Ahhh. We made it. (n.b. Behold the majesty of Giotto, my little sister Margaret Leigh's new kitty. She's experiencing some gender confusion thanks to her male name but she'll work through it.)
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