As strands of “I’ll be Home for Christmas” still linger in the wires of my freshly unplugged stereo, I check my flight online and am forced to break the bad news to Mrs. NH.
Pregnant Mrs. NH, mind you.
At first, she doesn’t believe me. Then, she asks me to pull up the page to prove it. Then, she swears like a sailor. I love Mrs. NH.
It blinks in red. CANCELED.
This is about to be a bigger PITA than that darned volcano that kept me in Ukraine this year. But at least, for now, I’m stranded at home. The real pain begins when I can’t get online. Even to blog. Waiting for a non-existent connection in Frankfurt. With bags the size of a trailer. And the travel wrath of Little NH in full force.
A last, big, slobbery kiss goodbye, 2010.
I hope to keep you posted. Otherwise, um, happy new year?