Today I went to the airport to collect #1 Grandmother after yet another holiday.
The airport was filled with irritatingly happy holidaymakers. Excited to be going on holiday, relaxed and refreshed coming back from a holiday. Whatever. Either way, they were decidedly more relaxed than I.
Here's why :
I spent my time trying to decide if I should stop Miss2 from stealthly liberating #1 Grandfather's Smarties (her slidey eyes darting from me to him, as her hand repeatedly slithered up onto the table for more). It was either stop her and risk unleashing her tyrant wrath upon me in a crowded public place, or ignore it and hope she burns off the sugar buzz before we get in the car to go home.
When she wasn't downing fistfuls of Smarties, she and Mstr2 were trying to run through the arrivals doors every time they opened. The doors that very clearly say NO ENTRY. Shame your average 2yr old can't read.
And when they weren't trying to rush Customs and Immigration, Mstr2 was attempting to pick the combination lock on a bright purple suitcase emblazoned with large pink cows, which belonged to a Japanese girl at the next table. I swear to vodka, no exaggeration on the description.
The twin tornado ruined my most favourite place in the world.
I adore going to the airport. If the parking wasn't such a rip off, I'd go there just for coffee, to browse the newsagency and bookshop, or to get my Red Rooster (roast chicken fast food chain in Perth. Second only to Macca's, simply because they don't have a playground for me to dump the kids in for a few hours).
They have a bar that is open beyond standard trading hours. That is a mega huge plus. Although, I've never made a special trip out to there to the bar at odd hours, mostly because they don't have a playground either.
The point is, I love the airport more than anywhere - even Macca's. I get up at all sort of ungodly hours (prior to 8am) to do the airport run for extended family, friends, casual acquaintances, neighbours, anyone whose face I vaguely recognise. That place is my drug of choice after wine and vodka.
Awesome people watching.
Only, not today. Today people were watching me, as I shot out of my chair every 5 seconds to grab a twin, and in return, I only had eyes for them. I missed many heartfelt reunions, excited departures, complaints about the price of snacks and coffee.
Fantastic buzz in the air. All electricity and excitement (Shut up, it's my happy place, ok?).
Only, not today. Today the air was thick with stress (mine) and potential temper tantrums (mine, and Miss2's if I'd dared stop the Smarties supply; and Mstr2's if I'd continued to hamper his attempts at cracking the combination lock on the purple suitcase with the pink cows).
I've been stuck at home, holed up in the house with the twin tornado for over a week. The weather has been lousy. The temperature has been too cold to let the kids outside, and it's been raining half the time. We have been virtual prisoners in our house.
I have been LIVING FOR this trip to the airport. Seriously. I shit you not.
bastards darling's completely screwed up my favourite place, my one single outing for the week besides Miss5's school runs.
They will pay. I'm not sure when, I'm not sure how, but they will pay. Mummy loves you, but not so much when you ruin my special Happy Place.