Horribly early start this morning to drop Idgy and her Dad (Mr X) at the airport for their trip to New York for the big Comic Con event. My girl is SO excited. There has been a count down going on in here for last 100 days!
She is very excited in the car. Non stop chatter. Much clicking as she texts her pals to alert them to the fact that she is now On Her Way. I’m sure they’d be thrilled to be awoken at this ungodly hour to hear the news.
Arrive at airport in good time and drop them off. Lots of hugs to Idgy and promises that she will take care/have a ball/take photos/miss me even just a little. Know she will miss the cat so don’t have to list that one.
Jump back into car and head off home on the motorway. Just toodling along there when phone chirps into action. It is still an unreasonably early hour so must be important. Try to answer phone while driving (bad, bad person!) and of course miss call.
Try to click phone to call back and drop bloody thing in footwell. This is fast becoming one of those ‘This is what happens when you use a phone while driving’ infomercials, but I finally make contact with phone and discover a voice mail now been left.
This is it – “Help, help! Left the bloody tickets and bag on back seat”. Guess who that’s from, Mr X of course.
Bellow with rage at his abject stupidity and only just manage to resist temptation to ignore message and leave the silly sod to miss his plane completely, afterall he is my X.
Rationality returns after a brief pause of just a couple of seconds and I fumble about trying to call back and say I’ll head back to airport. This time I have to shout as phone has now slipped off passenger seat and is wedged between seat and gear stick.
Can see a turn off ahead but have to swing through two lanes of traffic to make a slightly abrupt exit off the motorway. Not popular with other drivers. Now going back towards Glasgow and traffic has built up in preparation for morning rush hour. Head back to airport.
I can see my girl before I even reach the drop off area where I have arranged to meet them. She is frantic, arms waving and red in the face. As I pull up and open the door to deliver the pesky flight bag I can hear her berating her father for leaving the damn thing on the seat.
That’s my girl, chip off the old block, bit like looking in a mirror really.
Another quick hug and I’m off home this time. Back on the motorway and thinking of her with her big adventure ahead. New York and Comic Con. She has saved up all year, cracked open one of those china pot things this morning where she has been stashing her cash. She has designed and made her own outfit for the event, been blogging and talking about it for months. Now it is here at last.
I wish her well and such a great and fabulous time over there.
Quiet here, me and the cat….