Rental Cars, Roaches, and the TSA

On Tuesday night we all gathered at our rental cars to return to our rented condos for the evening.  Our team was in a couple rented vans and a car or two.  We had enjoyed a delicious dinner at Don Pablos as a group, and were making a stop and heading “home.”

Jp and I were in the van with our friend and loved Boss-man John.

John does not like dirt.  John does not like bugs. John does not like gross.

We get in the van and John exclaims. “There are roaches in this car!”

Roaches?  Really?

I have never seen a roach outside of the hissing cockroaches of Madagascar that are at the zoo.

After some investigating, we were fairly confident our van has roaches.  Little amber colored roaches.

I tried to take a picture.

We rode the remainder of the trip in near silence .  After one of those little buggers climbed on my flip-flop clad foot I decided to ride with my legs extended parallel to the ground.  We piled our recent purchases on our laps and hoped for the best.

I went immediately to the shower, and I think that I was not the only one who took a “that totally grossed me out” shower.  My skin crawled!!!!   It was awful.   We went through our bags outside our room and tried to insure we did not transport any of the lovely creatures.

Dennis changed our rental car the next morning, and it seems that people in Florida are not nearly as grossed out by cockroaches us northerners.

On Thursday we were at the airport ready to go home.  We checked our bags, and I reached in to my wallet to grab my ID to take to security.

Imagine my horror as a single golden cockroach was walking along the inside of the wallet opened in my hands.  Just imagine.

As I shook the little critter loose and flung him to the floor, my first thought was that the TSA was going to stream in from everywhere and “detain” me for bringing foreign objects into the airport.  I could see my bags ripped apart and examined while we were in a little back room explaining how we got a cockroach from a rental car.

I could just see the TSA agent lean across the table to which I was chained and with an accusatory look and tone boom, “Do you really EXPECT us to believe you did not know you were bringing roaches into the Orlando International Airport?  What were you REALLY trying to do, Mrs. Griffin?  Is that even your real name?”

“um…”

“You husband is in the other room singing like a canary.  Did you try to bring any of those into this airport?”

In reality, what was actually happening was me trying to not freak out and draw too much attention to the roach I just set free from my wallet while JP looked on in amused horror.

We made our way to an area where we could empty my purse and my wallet and look for anymore stow-a-ways, and having found now we made our way through security.

When they x-rayed our bodies and bags no TSA agents moved us to another room for questioning, so I am assuming they found no more on our persons.

The good news is that JP told me it didn’t matter what it cost but I am to go buy a new purse AND wallet today.

 

I am pretty sure I am normal.

I begin to wonder sometimes about what “normal” is supposed to be.  I know that people say there is no “normal.”  “Normal ” is different to everyone.

My “normal”  is pretty different from anyone else that I know.  I know that our life is constantly chaotic, and when things are calm it is near boring. If things were always like that I do not know how I would deal with it.

It is funny how God takes two people from different “normals” and they struggle to find their own “normal.”

Before we left on our recent trip to Florida, JP and I got a good chuckle out of the email that we sent out with our “itinerary.”  My father-in-law is ultra-organized when it comes to his travel arrangements.  When they are traveling, he has it planned to the minute detail and each of the children gets a copy of his itinerary.  I am pretty sure he has even documented when he will be stopping to blow his nose and the flight number on which he will be doing the nose clearing on.

JP and I were so proud of ourselves for having a rental car reserved and a confirmation number in hand.

(We all know how well THAT worked out!)

We sent out our information to the entire family and got a good giggle.

We knew our general plans and people knew our flight numbers to meet us at the airport.  We had cell phones…

Then we experience the other side of the coin.  I do not know how my parents never sold all their stuff and went cross country in a Winnebago.

I spoke to my parents this morning while they were sitting at the O’Hare airport waiting for their flight to Mexico.

“Well, did you leave us information on how to get a hold of you in case of emergency?”

“um… no. Should we have?”

“Well, do you think that is important? I am going to be in the middle of the Caribbean, and JP will be here with no way to get a hold of either of us if something bad happens.”

“Nothing bad is going to happen. Don’t worry”

“It would be nice to have an idea…you know, just in case.”

“Well, get out a pen.“  I find an old bank envelope in her car anticipating the information.

“We will be staying in Caribbean Reef Villa.  Puerto Morales.”

“Okay, and the number?”

“Number?  There is no phone.”

“Okay, what company is it booked with?  He could call them if something happened.  Grandpa is 96, you know.”

“Um,  we might have a number for a guy in California.  We rented it from him.  It is private…. No…we don’t have that either.”

“So…if Grandpa…you know… “

 “Call Kelvin.  He knows which funeral home we went through everything is paid for. …and Grandpa is doing really great after a week with the kids.  He came out of his room and ate every day!  He even went out to dinner.  We think he should stay with you guys. ”

“um…”

well, we will turn our phone every couple days and check for messages…” 

I guess this in an improvement.  One time I just knew they were in Mexico.