Plane Tickets and Mondays…

Standard

It’s that time again. Time to buy a plane ticket home. I hate looking for tickets. Do I buy now? Do I wait and hope the prices go down? Do I beg my family to come here, so I don’t have to juggle Robbie on an airplane and in different airports by myself? After forty minutes on the phone with my mom, I’m still without a ticket home. But, you know, prices are supposed to drop on Tuesdays.

I dropped Robbie off at daycare this morning, since Justin had to take his dad to the airport. When I got in the door, Zhining ushered Robbie into the small office off the entryway. She looked very serious and solemnly told me there was no heat but immediately assured me that someone was on the way to fix it. When I told Justin about this via email, I could almost hear him laugh through the computer. His response was that he wished he had dropped Robbie off this morning, so he could have told her, “Baby too cold!” Exactly what she told him every morning during the winter last year when he failed to dress Robbie warmly enough for her rigid standards.

And, yes, the heat was on when I came back at 4:00 this afternoon. Zhining was quick to let me know that it wasn’t cold for very long.

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