In
preparing for a family vacation that involved a trip on a plane, my lovely
daughter states that she wants to bring along her trombone. Read that
sentence again. Here’s the highlights: vacation, plane, bring trombone.
Needless to say, the answer was no for multiple reasons. We’d have to check it,
it could get damaged or lost, we are on vacation, it won’t fit in the overhead
compartment. Seriously, if I have to explain to you the reasons why not, you
may as well stop reading this and move on to some other blog post. Check out my
Potato. Potato. post. So, basically, any reasonable person would accept this.
My daughter did not. She pursued this request daily up to and on the day of
travel and, alas, no trombone made it to airport.
Fast
forward through security to our gate. We’re sitting in some seats, waiting for
boarding. Playing on our phones, reading books, trying to chill. About 10 minutes
before boarding, a young man appears. He’s at our gate, waiting to board the
same flight. And on any other day, this person wouldn’t have caught any of our
eyes but this day, ladies and gentleman, this day is not any other day. This is
the day we are flying without a trombone on a plane. Then this guy (THIS GUY)
shows up with a soft trombone case that can be worn as a backpack and carried
on the plane. Imagine the glare of a teenage daughter when she looks up
from her phone and sees this person. Really. Of all the days, of all the
airports, of all the times, of all the flights, this guy (THIS GUY) just
happens to be on the exact same flight at the same time in the same airport on
the same day so the cosmic universe in all its wisdom could effectively provide
my teenage daughter with physical proof that her parents are jerks. I
blocked what she said that day, I honestly can’t remember if she even said
anything but I still think deep down, she hired that guy to show up.
