Where the Sun Don’t Shine: In Which Baji and Mr. Baji are Reunited

While Mr. Baji was kickin’ it with his peeps in Madrid (i.e. hanging out on park benches with his buddy Sars), I was holding down the fort, working my full-time job, and running an infirmary as both of my parents were sick and jet-lagged from their trip back from Pakistan and both of my kids were sick and missing their daddy.  It should come as no surprise that when my own departure date finally arrived, I was so excited that I didn’t even care about my sheer and utter exhaustion, the multiple good-bye bites from DC’s mosquitoes, or leaving my ill family behind.  I was on my way to an airport with one carry on, an ipod full of new tunes, podcasts, and games, and snacks galore!  I didn’t have a diaper bag or a stroller to manipulate.  I didn’t have a passel of passengers whose bladders I needed to monitor.  I didn’t have any set plans other than arrive, eat, and sleep.  I was completely and blissfully alone.  So, of course, I spent the hour I had allotted myself at the airport calling my parents, my kids, my sister, repeat until my flight left.

so long, suckers!

Even though the flight itself took 25 minutes, because of the delays on the runway, I had to book it to get to my terminal only to find out that the next flight was delayed as well.  I gobbled up some Chik-fil-A meal.  I downed an amazing cup of macchiato while waiting for my connecting flight (Philly Illy rules), took my seat (nobody sitting next to me and the dude on the other end of the aisle didn’t mind if I stretched out across the two seats), and headed to Barcelona.  I enjoyed the in-flight entertainment which consisted of The Karate Kid (which I had absolutely no trouble following without headphones), Just Wright (which I had never heard of but ditto), and a throwdown between the first class flight attendant and two coach passengers who tried to hang their coats in the empty first class coat closet.  I slept for maybe half an hour and then I was there!  With my shiny new passport in hand, I zipped through customs, sneered at the bedraggled passengers waiting at the luggage carousel, and met TP.  Safe and sound in my husband’s care, I turned my brain off and went into auto-pilot as he led me to the bus, to the apartment, and to the bed where I promptly passed out.  Stay tuned for tomorrow’s exciting installment where I am awake!

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2 responses to “Where the Sun Don’t Shine: In Which Baji and Mr. Baji are Reunited

  1. Happy Birthday! – Its sometime around these days, isnt it..? Have fun in Barca. – & everywhere else too!

  2. what the! where’ve you been? how are ye? thx and happy bday to you too!

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