The kids come home

My "kids" are no longer children.  They have children of their own and some of those children are married or going to college.  I really shouldn't call them kids.

My kids

You really would expect them to be sanely sensible, wouldn't you?  I think they usually are, but when they come home to visit, their kid pops out and all of a sudden I've got a house full of kids again.


Around the first of this month they came home.  First the oldest and the youngest, then the middle kiddle with her best friend, whom she calls Lightfoot.


Youngest Daughter was coming was coming into the San Diego airport via Delta from LA.  Oldest Daughter was coming in an hour later, same airport, via Southwest.  My hubbie would be there for Oldest Daughter's arrival.  Sounds doable, doesn't it?  I have to tell you that the San Diego Airport is strung out between the Commuter Terminal and Terminals 1 and 2.  They each have their place apart from the other.


My hubbie dropped me off at Delta (Terminal 1) and I went to greet Youngest Daughter.  At the top of the stairs, I was met with security.  I couldn't go any further.  I asked where I could meet my daughter and they said go to the baggage claim, but arriving at the baggage claim, I didn't see a Delta flight coming in at that time and none from LA.


I don't carry a cell phone because of Pally.  As I popped out of the car earlier I told my hubbie I'd meet him at Southwest (Terminal 2) once I'd met up with Youngest Daughter.  Where was Youngest Daughter anyway?


Puzzled I went to information and they looked up her flight.  Youngest Daughter wasn't coming in on Delta (Terminal 1), Youngest Daughter had caught a commuter flight and was at the Commuter Terminal.  Good information, but how did I get there on foot?  It's a walk of a couple of miles.


The information ladies conferred and told me I could catch a free bus that went to all the terminals.  I could catch it outside at the Free Bus Stand.  Great.  I went outside and I walked and walked and walked some more.  There it was!  Halfway between Terminal 1 and Terminal 2.  I was so tired, but I got on the bus and hoped that Youngest Daughter would forget she was a competent adult and remember what I told her as a kid.  If you get lost, stay where you are and I'll find you.

To get to the Computer Terminal, the free bus had to leave the airport and come back in.  I no more than left the bus when my Youngest Daughter spied me.  She laughed and said, "I hoped you would remember what you told me as a kid.  If I was lost I was supposed to stay where I was and you'd come find me."


She did and I found her, even though she was totally at the other end of the airport from where we thought she'd be.


The Free Bus was still there, so we took her luggage (missing a wheel) and boarded for Terminal 2.  We found my Hubbie and Oldest Daughter hanging around wondering what was taking us so long.  


Did I mention it was late at night.  I was tired before I started.  So glad my rusty "mommy" got me through it all.


The next day the Middle Daughter and Lightfoot just showed up at my house.  They'd rented a car and drove to our place themselves.  Another terrific solution.


More later about their visit.

  Marilynne