Fly the friendly skies - or not

I got up before dawn this morning to fly to Chicago. There is not much traffic at 5 am, and though the lot was pretty full, I found a spot to tuck the MINI without undue difficulty. I got to the terminal to find a line for security that was more than an hour long. Wound around and then backed up into the next terminal.

Worried that I would miss my flight, I asked the TSA person who was directing people to the end of the line if the lines were shorter at other terminals. "You can't get through unless you go thru security here," she assured me. "The other security lines are closed, then," thinking this would explain the unusually long line. "You have to go through here" she asserted, "you can go look if you don't believe me." I took a deep breath and headed to the back of the line. Then I realized that as I walked across the bridge from parking, I had seen the security lines in the next terminal over, they were open then, and they hadn't been long. So I asked the TSA police stationed there if all the rest of the security lines were closed. "No, of course not." Ah. On my way past I let my previous informant know that all the lines were open.

In under 15 minutes I had walked to the next terminal, gone through security (no line here) and found my gate. We boarded, there are a boatload of kids on board (5 in the row I'm in alone, including a munchkin from a huge family that got here so late from security there were no seats together left who is sitting in the center seat. The little ones are so excited. I can hear one little boy say, "Are we are in the air yet?" The one next to me pulls her seatbelt tight, "I'm ready for blast off." If only. Thunderstorms in Chicago are delaying us.

We taxied back to the gate, and many of the young ones are confused. "Aren't we there yet?" I'm busy praying for the parents. It's all friendly, but I do wish we were flying!