We had quite a whirlwind experience the last week. It all began with what I like to call the Great Chik-fil-A Wallet Heist.
We were supposed to set off for northern Minnesota on a Thursday. I spent that day packing for myself and for Will (somehow my slow packing skills have grown even slower since having a child, and yes, it takes me a full day to pack). That morning, Will and I ran to Target to pick up a few things, and on the way back I stopped at the Chick-fil-A drive thru to pick up lunch. I went about my business the rest of the day until it was time to leave for the airport. We left our house around 4:00 pm for a 5:45 pm flight--plenty of time, since we live about 30 minutes away.
About ten minutes away from the airport, I felt compelled to check my purse to make sure my wallet was in there "just in case". As I peered into the depths of my gigantic bag, I realized my wallet was no where to be found. Which meant my ID was no where to be found. Which meant there was no way in hell we were going to get on that 5:45 pm flight.
I realized that during the Chick-fil-A drive thru run , I must have taken my wallet out and set it on my car passenger seat instead of putting it back in my purse. With a sinking stomach and panic rising in my chest, I told Billy the bad news. I have to give the guy A LOT of credit because while clearly unhappy with the situation, he did not let any snide remarks fly as I'm afraid I would have if the situation had been reversed. We decided to try and run home and return to the airport as a last ditch effort to make the flight (in the midst of rush hour, mind you).
We gave it our best shot, even driving on the shoulder of the road as many Texans do, but alas, no luck. We arrived back at the airport with twenty minutes to go until our flight, but no dice. Since we had all the baby gear and would need to check bags, there was simply no time. Unfortunately, there were no other flights to Minneapolis that evening and all the flights the next day appeared booked, but the airline employees told us to come back the next day and try to make it on a flight as standby passengers.
So, we woke up the next morning at 4:30 am in hopes of making an early morning flight to Minneapolis. We got to the airport in plenty of time (with ID in hand this go round), and things looked promising. "There are eight spots open on this flight; you guys should have no problem," the agent at the gate told us.
Things did look good--there were about ten minutes to go until that flight left and there were still spots available. That was when we saw another airline employee come running down the hall with a family of seven--yes, seven--trailing behind. Seems they had missed their flight and this employee booked them on the flight we were trying to get on. Eight seats minus a family of seven equals no dice again for the Fanning family.
We were able to get confirmed on a flight for the next day (we're up to Saturday at this point), and we debated canceling the trip altogether since we had to return Tuesday (Billy had to travel to Dallas for work on Wednesday). But, we ultimately decided to go and I'm so glad we did. I have several aunts and uncles that own lake houses in Northern Minnesota in a small town called Bemidji. It's about an hour from the Canadian border and it's absolutely beautiful. The lake they live on is small, doesn't allow motor boats (other than fishing boats), and is not super populated. It is the ultimate picture of peace and relaxation. I'm talking totally wooded, bald eagles flying around, loons swimming on the quiet lake, Northern Lights at night kind of relaxation. And did I mention I had to wear a sweater at night? A sweater! I won't get to do that again here in Texas for another, oh, six months or something ridiculous like that.
My parents are renting a house on that lake for the summer, so we stayed with them. Many of my cousins and their families were there, too, so it was so nice to catch up with them, even if it was just for a few brief days. And, Will had so much fun playing on the sandy beach, splashing in the water (although he was more interested in the sand than the water, including putting some of it in his mouth).
Pictures to come soon, after my parents email them to us. We failed to charge our digital camera, but that's a whole other story. As for Chick-fil-A, I considered boyotting them since they caused me so much heartache (even though it was totally my own fault), but really, who can stay away from those waffle fries?
1 comment:
I had the "pleasure" of talking to Bill a few minutes after the family of 7 came trotting along. I was telling him a story but the whole time he seemed uncharacteristically down.
As I wrap up I say "What's up man? You sound like your cat just died." He said "AV, if it were only that.." and then told me about the debacle.
Had I been in his shoes with a friend telling me some inane story, I'm sure it all would have sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher calling roll.
Who knows, maybe that's what Bill heard too, but somehow I doubt it. Like you said he never uttered a snide remark and made it seem like he actually cared about my story too. (And that's saying a lot because it wasn't a good story to begin with.)
The next morning his famous cheers photo appeared on Facebook indicating all was good. Everything looked exactly as you described with the addition of a cold one being hoisted up in the forefront. Both great views in their own right but true to my experience, the beer made everything else seem a little out of focus.
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