The girls and I just returned from a little jaunt across the country to celebrate Thanksgiving and my sister's wedding with my family in Iowa. Lars dropped us off at the airport where he sat with the girls in the car while I did curbside check in with my three bags and two carseats. I gave the man my name and flashed him my photo ID while he printed off my boarding pass. "Will there be an infant riding on your lap?" Yes. "And anyone else flying with you?" Yes. Three more kids. "You have three kids?" Four. "You're flying alone with four kids?" Yes. No. That didn't make sense, but yes, I have four kids flying with me. "Same last name?" Yes, same last name. A chuckle and a "Good luck" and we were off.
Thankfully we were able to get two rows of seats across from each other and the ride remained new and exciting for the duration of our four hour flight to Kansas City. The barf bags were used as puppets and the evacuation instuctions as napkins, but all in all everything went well.
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