Well, Robbie and Elodie had and interesting trip yesterday. We woke up at 3:30 a.m. to get them ready and were at the airport by 4:30. We checked them in and then went to hang out at Tim Hortons (breakfast of champions) while we waited for the 5:30 boarding time. Robbie's dad showed up and checked in, and we took Elodie to the bathroom, and then off to the security gate to say goodbye!
I can't lie and say that I didn't shed some tears - there were definitely tears shed. I left and went home for a little nap before I had to go into work at the office. That's when things went a little wonky.
At 7:15, the cell buzzed. It was Robbie texting to say that they still hadn't taken off (plane was supposed to leave at 6:05) and were sitting on the tarmac. There was a mechanical issue and then a radio issue and then a "oh, we forgot to put gas in the plane" issue. By 8:00, they were just getting ready to take off, and the plane finally got in the air at 8:30. They landed in Toronto at 1:57 CST, a full 27 minutes after their connecting flight had left.
Elodie was so tired and upset by this time that she pooped in her pants, even though she's been completely potty trained for a year and a half. This leads me to believe she was under a considerable amount of stress. Thankfully, Robbie brought a change of clothes.
They got booked in for a different flight, this time no longer direct to Deer Lake, but now stopping in Montreal. Oh, and arriving a full seven hours later than expected. Air Canada graciously (*cough*) provided them with a $12 voucher each for a meal while they waited for their trouble.
Finally, they were in the air. A 45 minute flight to Montreal and then an hour and a half to Deer Lake. They arrived at midnight Newfoundland time (8:30 here), grumpy, exhausted, hungry, but there. As a bonus, the airline didn't lose their luggage.
While their sage was taking place, I was tentatively enjoying my first single days since being a teenager. I lived on my own back when I was 18, but having lived with Robbie for the last five years, I was am slightly out of practice on this whole single thing.
I called my younger brother, and we went out for dinner. A thoroughly disgusting experience. I was eating my Wor Wonton Soup, and I'm thinking, what are these things floating in my soup? I look closer. About 30 bugs were floating lifelessly on top of the broth. Ew. Upon closer inspection, the bugs were being leached into the soup from an ill-washed peice of broccoli, thoroughly infested with the things. I mean, the broccoli was BLACK under the green top.
The restaurant didn't seem to appalled, and they offered to make me something new, or, you know, they could not charge me for my food, but they wouldn't make me something new. No problem, dude, I'm not hungry anymore. I also fully intend to call the health inspector about that one. You'd think hundreds of bugs imbedded in a piece of broccoli would call attention to themselves, but I digress.
We went back to Carsten's house for a beer to drown the little buggy parts in, and then I went home, read some of my book (Shogun), ate some chips, talked to Robbie (Elodie refused), and finally fell, exhausted, into my bed.
I woke up at 10:30 this morning.
So, provided that no bugs find their way into my dinner for the rest of the two weeks, I think this single life thing should be thoroughly relaxing. I do have plans to strip the deck of its horrific green paint and sand it and then waterproof it. Also maybe change the lattice. Perhaps remove the wall paper from the bathrooms and repaint them. But we'll see. For the next couple of days, I'm not doing ANYTHING.