First Flight, Easy Peasy. Second Flight....

Were you on a flight from Omaha to Las Vegas Tuesday afternoon with a frantically crying baby?  Oh, me too.  I was sitting quite close to him actually.  Under him.  I worried so much about the airport, flight in, and drive to my home town (C's first flight) that when it went flawlessly I let down my guard.  Then came the return flight.  Trouble from step one.  We had fussiness in security, a leaky diaper while waiting to board, mild crying in line to board, a brief intermission wherein I thought we might have a nice nap, then we had all out hysterics for 42 hours.  I guess it must've really been 15 minutes, and perhaps "hysterics" is a bit of an exaggeration, but if you were there you'd agree that the flight was looking like torture at that point.  Then, after multiple rounds of the abc song (Tilly and the Wall!), Walk Like a Man, and Three Little Fishies, he calmed down enough to feed.  Then - blissful napping.  I can't blame the poor fella.  He came down with a cold in Nebraska (could have something to do with the throngs of people grabbing him for four days) and was out of sorts. I will never think mean thoughts when I get in the security line behind a family with multiple kids and bags again.  Probably.