When Jim found out about this trip, he asked if I wanted to take him to the airport. Of course, I agreed without thinking it through. The more I did think about it- driving to Frankfurt {1 1/2 hrs from our house} and navigating the fifth-largest city in Germany, I felt a little intimidated. Especially considering my run in with the police at the train station just last month. Luckily, he had a better option and he took it. There is a shuttle that picked him up here at our house this morning {bright and early at 5:30} and dropped him off at the airport. Upon returning, it will bring him back- straight to our house. Pretty nifty. No stress about getting lost {hearing our GPS recalculating a dozen times} or even missing his flight. No stress for me having to deal with those idiot airport "police" who freak out if you stop for even half a second. I can't stand them and have let them know it in the past. The ones in Anchorage are the absolute worst- Wichita airport is a little more laid back. As impatient as they are in the US, I can't imagine dealing with the German equivalents here.
Caden is a little upset that his dad actually gets to go to the "United States of America" where they speak English {in his own words}. He's been so upset about the fact he didn't get to go, I think he's forgotten that he's stuck with me putting him to bed tonight. I'm realizing he's a little more affected by the language barrier than I was aware. The other day, we were trying to find a building- on base. I stopped at the pool and asked a guy where it was. He gave me specific directions {straight down this road, third building on the left} that I couldn't mess up. Wrong building. I was a bit irritated as we had to ask someone else where to go. As we got in the car, I said to Caden, "Ugghhh... I can't believe that guy told me the wrong place." Caden's {very calm} response was, "Well, at least he spoke English."
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