Monday, August 15, 2005

My Son, the International Terrorist


Our trip to Florida, while fabulous, was not without its harrowing moments. Unbeknownst to us, we were harboring an international terrorist in our midst - our 8-year-old son James. As we attempted to check in like we normally do, at the kiosk, we were told that we could not use the kiosk, but must go to the ticket counter. At the counter, we were asked for our IDs over and over, then the attendant would get on the phone, then go into a back room for five minutes, at which time she would check our IDs again and then disappear once more. This went on several times. Then she asked who 'James' was. I told her it was my 8-year-old son. After several more phone calls and disappearances, she reluctantly allowed us to get tickets and proceed toward the plane.

Look at that face. Doesn't it strike fear into your heart?

I thought so.

6 comments:

oldwhitelady said...

I wonder if he has the same name as someone on their watch list.

Alicia said...

He does - but he's 8!

cookie christine said...

He looks pretty scary to me. Obviously he's been consorting with other terrorists, such as Captain Underpants. I say we send him to Gitmo where they will make him talk.

Alicia said...

Ever read the O. Henry story,"The Ransom of Red Chief"? They'd be begging us to take him back!

Douglas Hoffman said...

That's some mighty subversive literature he's holding! Glad you folks escaped without a cavity search ;o)

Alicia said...

They have no idea who they'd be messing with if they messed with James...he's a tornado of a human being.