(Mr. J in the middle, with his cabin guys)
He is home! Tired, dirty, elated, and wonderful, that's my boy.
I arrived at the airport about 45 minutes early. I'm always early, but when it comes to airlines, I tend to be REALLY early. It must come from my anxiety that I will either miss a flight, get stuck in traffic, have car trouble, or arrive late to pick someone up. Needless to say, I do a great deal of waiting at the airport. Which doesn't bother me. It is the ultimate 'people watching' site.
You'll see folks from all over the world, dressed in various outfits. I saw many from India, an orthodox Jewish family, tattoos, piercing, Asian, African, and European. The reunions are always sweet! The old couple, the young man with the roses, the little girl screaming, "DADDY" as she runs towards him, and the best one, the Grandma who sees her grandchild for the first time. I suppose that the airport gives a fairly good picture of what we humans are all about: We love our family and friends, we cherish our children, many of us cry when we are happy, and we all look weary after flying for hours.
Which brings me back to my sons international flight yesterday. It was delayed in Germany. I believe the reason may be due to the fact that my son nearly caused an international incident.
You see, it began at roughly 11:30 (Czech time) when he was PUID - Packing Under the Influence of Dramamine - Mr. J accidentally packed a set of medieval arrow heads in his, you guessed it, carry on. They were a gift for his father (an archer). They were metal, sharp, and around 3 inches long. Amazingly, the Prague airport security waved him through without even batting an eye.
The German airport security was a bit sharper (pardon the pun). Not only did they SEE the weapons on the x-ray, they removed them from the bag and checked them out carefully. All the while, Mr. J is waiting for the machine guns to be leveled in his direction as they march him off to the unseen airport torture chamber.
Fortunately, for my 16-year-old, sleep deprived, anxious, young man, they simply told him that, "THESE ARE NOT ALLOWED!" Whew! He apologized profusely and was allowed to pass the security station and board his flight home.
At PDX we waited...
Who knew customs took so long! Finally, the team came walking down the hallway. It reminded me of that scene from the movie, The Right Stuff. Except they were more disheveled. To me, they looked wonderful!
I got my hug and didn't shed a tear. Sigh. I love this boy.
The drive home was filled with laughter and amazing stories. When his father walked in the front door, Mr. J yelled, "Daddy!" and gave him a huge bear hug. We ate pizza and listened to tale after tale of the kids at camp and the new foods he had tried. He was so tired that we couldn't help laughing at him. He brought us gifts and pounds of dirty laundry. At 8:00 pm last night I demanded that he go to bed. Twenty minutes later he was snoring.
Mr. J will never be the same and neither will I.
Welcome home buddy! We missed you!
- Oh, he also knows now that if he ever leaves home again and doesn't call that he will be grounded for the rest of his natural life :)