Come Fly The Smelly Skies...

So T made it across the Atlantic and over to the Czech Republic.

When I flew to Las Vegas, I followed the prescribed protocol for items to pack in carry-on luggage, and put the rest in my checked bag. Because T was travelling internationally, he was advised to avoid the hassle of attempting to retrieve checked baggage by taking only 1 carry-on for the entire 5-day trip. Also? My husband has the dark and swarthy looks, including the so-brown-they're-nearly-black eyes, of a Middle Eastern gentleman, especially when rockin' his summer tan. This is especially bizarre, as his heritage - the best we can figure - is actually mostly German and Scandinavian. Even so, on the best of days, he can expect to be stopped and searched at least once on every airport outing.

It is worth noting that the following items were removed from him at the security checkpoint at Dulles:

- Deoderant
- Toothpaste
- Lotion

And so... poor T. His flight was not made any safer (or more comfortable back there in coach) by the confiscation of his toiletries. On the contrary, he merely arrived in Prague with the prospect of spending his first day there sweaty, smelly, with dry skin and bad breath.

May the TSA personnel who did this to him be cursed with horrendous body odor and incurable halitosis. And shingles, for good measure.

Hopefully he enjoys his birthday, in spite of the inconvenience of it all. It's the last time his birthday will start with a "2"... next year is the big 3-0. Just don't tell HIM that. He might spontaneously combust...

Happy Birthday, Baby. You are - officially - older than I am once more. Order a Pivo to celebrate and give yourself a big hug from me and the boys. You deserve it.