Looking for the short end of the stick?

Don’t worry – I have it. I swore I would never do it again, and now I have to… twice. International travel, with the twins. Alone. Again.

Captains awesome job, did just what we expected, but hoped they wouldn’t – booked a trip during his vacation. Sure, they offered to pay the flight change fees and shifted his vacation dates, but at this late date, in the middle of the summer, do you think there is a flight with FOUR available seats? Of course not. Do you think the airline would let him keep his return flight if he either cancelled or just didn’t show for the first one? Of. Course. Not. Do you think they would even resell the one-way return ticket to him? Not even at an exorbitant price. Naturally, the flight is oversold.

So, here we go again.

Hong Kong to Copenhagen. And then back.

Approximately: 14 trips for the three of us to the airplane restroom. Yay.

Approximately: 145 times I will have to say, “Don’t touch that!” in said airplane restrooms.

Approximately: 978 looks of disdain from fellow travelers and airline staff.

Hopefully: 6 hours of airplane sleep for the twins, each direction.

Certainly: O hours of crappy airplane sleep for me.

So, if you find yourself with me in the airport next week, snarl in my direction. I dare you. Then cover your Choos – the Plinkas have full permission to let the ketchup-laden french fries fly.