The Horrible Awful No Good Very Bad Week (Pt. 3)

The Second-to-Last Chapter.

If this is your first visit to LBB, you might want to read parts one and two first.  Part two found us at LAX, having just been placed on "priority standby" for the first flight out the next morning by Kirkster the Friendly AA agent, and given directions to the Bob Hope USO, which was in Terminal 3, and also directions to the Southwest desk, in Terminal 4, so Husband could fly out at relatively the same time as the Vs and I.  Thus, with Vincent stuffed tucked into his rear-facing-but-free carseat, Husband's two checked bags, his backpack, my backpack, Vincent's diaper bag, and Vlad's backpack, we herded our brood out to the pick-up and drop-off area in order to get our bearings.  We walked to the right for a while, until Husband decided the trip might be quicker by shuttle, so we loaded our bags and children onto the shuttle that was supposedly going to Terminal 3 and settled down for a bit of a ride.  For a second.  Then Husband decided to ask the driver if we were on the right shuttle, and lo and behold: we were not.  The other passengers watched amusedly as we unloaded Vincent, Vlad, the two checked bags of Husband's, his backpack, my backpack, Vlad's backpack, and Vincent's diaper bag, off the shuttle; again walking aimlessly to the right.

After a bit we spied a luggage cart that looked as though we might be able to maneuver some of our bags onto it.  We stacked the two checked bags (one rather oddly shaped like a golf bag) and the diaper bag onto the cart, took Vincent out of the carseat and placed it on the cart as well, and I pushed the cart and wore one backpack while Husband carried Vincent, Vlad's backpack, and his backpack (Vlad all the while begging to be carried too).

This lasted long enough for us to cross one road and look for the first parking garage, which Kirkster assured us would be an easy trek across a parking lot and an intersection.  A rather busy intersection.  With no sidewalks or otherwise designated pedestrian walking areas.  We scuttled up to the corner, looked both ways, and dashed as fast as we possibly could while each wearing a backpack; Husband carrying Vincent and dragging Vlad who was finally wearing his backpack, and me pushing the cart with the two checked bags, the diaper bag, and the carseat, which promptly tumbled off the cart as soon as we hit the other curb.

Once we were in the parking garage, we decided to ditch the luggage cart and redistribute the children and bags.  Husband wore both backpacks (one on front and one on back), carried the diaper bag, and pulled one checked bag; I pulled the other checked bag, wore Vlad's backpack, carried Vincent on one hip, and dragged Vlad along with the other arm.  After trekking to the other side, I put Vlad's backpack on him (to much objection on his part), wore my backpack, handed Vincent to Husband, took the diaper bag, and hauled one checked bag along with one hand and Vlad with the other.  Husband wore his backpack, carried Little V (who was much amused at the entire process), and pulled the other checked bag.  Thusly arranged, we managed to make it most of the way across another terminal and down a road almost to The Radisson, until Husband stopped in his tracks and remarked "Babe? I think we're going the wrong way."

Son of a bitch.  I dropped my backpack off my shoulders and looked behind me, where Vlad was hanging onto a chainlink fence, dragging his feet, begging piteously to be carried.  "You cannot be serious.  HOW are we going the wrong way?"

Husband handed me my backpack.  "We just are.  We need to walk back across this other parking lot."  I scowled at Husband and The Emperor, who was gaily yanking Husband's hat off and waving it around.  "Are you sure, Magellan?  Because I'm about to keel over and Vlad's probably going to take the first ride offered by a strange man."  Husband started off in the other direction.  "Positive, Wife.  Let's march!"

At long (very long!) last, we finally made it to the Bob Hope USO, where we signed in, each got a shower (which was amazing; I'd been in the same clothes since Wednesday [it was now Sunday] and had bathed at the sink in Vincent's hospital room, but still felt pretty grody), and got sandwiches and fresh fruit served to us by the volunteers at the USO.  We settled into the sofa in the family room, which we had to ourselves, Vincent dozed off in the playpen, and Vlad nodded off over his cookies while watching Power Rangers.  Husband had a ticket out of Southwest leaving a half hour after our stand-by flight via American Airlines early the next morning, so we caught a few hours' sleep, certain that the next morning we'd be on our way to St. Louis and having dinner with the family by early evening.

Which, of course, didn't happen.  Stay tuned.