The Trip Home

By now, you have a pretty good idea of how the Hossman family vacation to Disney World turned out. Awesome is as awesome does. Truthfully, it was probably one of the best times we have spent together as a family And I say this even after my mother in law told me that she couldn't find her pants and to not turn around. She told me this after I turned around.

But it was, it was damn near perfect and I am very happy that we all seemed to have a good time and got along. That we were able to make memories that I'm sure will be cherished forever.

This is what I was telling myself when they canceled our flight in Milwaukee for our return trip home.

Why Milwaukee? Because apparently the airlines think that Milwaukee is in the direct path to Kansas City. I was no geography major in college so I can only take their word for it but that may have been a mistake as I know them to be awful, awful liars.

We were supposed to leave at 4:00 from Milwaukee and land in our beautiful home in time for dinner. Those plans don't seem to be working out, the only plans that didn't work out on this whole trip.

The airline tells us that they apologize for the delay and that another plane will be arriving shortly which in airline speak means a very long time. But they promise that we will not be charged a transfer fee since we cannot take our original plane so I decide to look on the bright side of things. Besides, if we had taken off on our original plane they probably would have charged a crashing and death fee and I'm about fee'd out when it comes to the airlines.

The new flight is supposed to be here in an hour. That was an hour and a half ago.

The kids are restless, they just want to get home and they are hungry. I bought them some Cheeto's for dinner as that is pretty much all we could get in the terminal. We can't leave because apparently our flight will be here "at any minute" so now I also got them some peanuts.

Finally, our flight arrives, 4 hours late. But at least it is here. We are supposed to board in the A group. This is short hand airline speak for "You are not as important as A group of other people ahead of you."

Somehow there are select people that get to board the plane first. Normally, I wouldn't care about this. Because if there aren't 3 seats together in a plane I will gladly hand my child off to one of the assholes that just had to board before children and let them deal with the fact that I forgot the colors in the hotel. I'm assuming I can get 3 seats together.

It's also slow going for this group of special select important travelers. Somehow, in the 4 hours that we have been stranded, some dillhole is having a problem with his lack of a boarding pass but he swears he is one of the important ones so a boarding pass has to be reprinted. 4 hours dude. You had 4 hours to figure this out and now is the time you decide that it was important. I have visions of me walking up and booting him in the balls but I am assuming this is against airline policy unless you pay for it first. I'm out of patience and money. I do make a note to sit Bubba Hoss and his horrendous cheeto's gas right next to him. It should be a pleasant 2 hour flight.

Finally we all get on and we do get seats together. The kids fall asleep on the plane which actually worked out well because there wasn't much I could do about them asking me for dinner and a peanut butter and jelly sand which.

We land and I go and get our bags in the three ring circus that is the baggage claim. I don't understand why everyone has to stand right at the front of the little conveyor belt and touch every bag that comes out like it belongs to them. Look, the little pink Hello Kitty suitcase isn't yours Mr. 25 year old but thanks for checking it first. Your bag is the one next, the large black one that smells like weed.

We get our bags, crowd onto a bus and head to economy parking, the far away land where unicorns and gremlins still exist.

We find our car. The car will not unlock when I push the button. I think I have a pretty good idea why but I don't want to tell the family yet. I get into the car and try to start it. It won't start. It's 10:30 at night, the kids are tired and cranky, Hossmom's hair is all out of whack, and the car won't start.

I'll admit it. I lost it a little bit. But at least I tried to do it in private.

I go around to the back of the car. I may have screamed a few cuss words. The big dogs may have come out to play. The words that should only be used in a bar in Thailand. And I punched the car. I don't know why but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

"Daddy!" my little girl shouts behind me. "We do not punch the car and we do not say shit!" she admonishes me.

"Baby" I say. "Sometimes we do."