The waiting game...

Airports are all about waiting. Waiting to see if your miles-too-heavy bag will be allowed on the plane, waiting for security to give you your shoes back, waiting in teh wrong departure lounge until they call yout name over hte loudspeaker.
As i say waiting at the gate, I wondered idly which of the three infants I could see would be sitting beside me and keeping me awake. It turned out to be the newborn. Not beside me though; in front of me. A minor detail.
I joyously anticipated the next nine hours. But to mine and the infants relief, it was moved nine rows forward to the bulkhead seat - and the possibility of a crib. So leg one of the journey was not so bad. i spent my time waiting to see what my next meal would be and whther the sound on the channel I wanted to watch would ever start woring 9 it didn't).

Leg two passed quite quickly too. I simply amused myself by having the kind of nosebleed that the Red Cross would take a professional interest in.