Tuesday, October 16, 2012
There is nothing scarier to the father of four kids than when the mother says “I am going away for the weekend.”
I went away last weekend to my Grandmother’s memorial service in Pittsburgh.
In Eric’s defense, it wasn’t like he had a lot of choice.
I had to go, and with no family nearby it was a one-man show.
And then I had to break the news to the kids, that I would be gone for four whole days! Autumn asked who was going to take care of them.
When I said “Daddy, of course” she said “Great. A whole weekend of cereal!”
Denver asked why we weren’t all going, and when I explained that plane tickets are expensive, he said “You mean to tell me you’re wasting all your money on a plane ticket and Mama’s not even going to be there?”
We kept reminding the kids that although we were sad, Mama was happy in heaven and we would see her soon.
As always, I prepped as much I could and wrote as many “Post it” notes as I could.
On the morning I left, I smooched all the kids (even Dylan whom I had to chase) goodbye.
Eric took all the kids to school and was coming back to pick me up.
Well, something came up at the office and he was late. And then I was late getting ready.
So, I grabbed my suitcase and off we went. Well, kind of ...
Eric went to put the handle down on my suitcase and it wouldn’t budge.
He tried shoving it and nothing.
I went and got a hammer and tried to pound it down. Nothing. At this point we were really late, so what’s the best thing to do?
Why, the only logical thing possible. Saw off the handle, of course!
Yep, Eric grabbed a saw and put on my sunglasses to protect his eyes, and in my family room proceeded to saw off the handle. Sparks were flying ALL over the place!
Thankfully no fire occurred.
In the moment it seemed like the only option since we didn’t have another carry-on size suitcase.
And I thought, why would I need a handle?
It’s not that heavy.
Well, I did need a handle. Because when I landed for my layover, I arrived at terminal F and had 15 minutes to get to terminal A.
So, while running through the airport carrying my handle-less suitcase (sometimes bear hugging it), I thought this is what handles are made for!
I did make it to my connection, and I did arrive on time to celebrate my Mama.
I got to my gate breathless with my heart racing, but I got there.
And sometimes that’s all that matters.
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