Our granddaughter had to fly to South Carolina to pick up her kids who were visiting their father over Christmas vacation. Stacy figured, "I'll wear flip-flops so they won't make me take off my shoes at security check. I will just take one extra set of clothes because I want to fly in relative comfort, without having a suitcase to pick up at baggage carousel. And I should leave my car in short-term parking. I'm coming right back tomorrow."
Then the storm struck. A seven hour delay in Huston was bad enough, but on the way home this would be intolerable. When she arrived in Charlotte, she discovered her return flight was scheduled to stop at O'Hare in Chicago, and nothing was going in or out of O'Hare by this time.
Grandma Christian picked her up to drive her back to her place (2 hours and then some). Finally negotiations were completed for a return flight that would bring her to Vegas--on Wednesday! Oh my goodness! Look at all that snow, and I'm in flip-flops. We have to stop at Wallmart and get some shoes.
Okay, let's give the kids a bath. Dad, you take care of little David. What do you mean he has spots? He can't have chicken pox, he's had the vaccine. Oh, you mean there are different types of chicken pox? By now, of course, both kids are breaking out in full color. Wait a minute. These kids are quarantined from public transportation until they are no longer contagious. That means we can't fly out on Wednesday.
She's crying, and she's laughing. What next?