
A man in a parking lot complimented Hubby on this t-shirt. I stepped back out of the car to say, “I got him that shirt!”
The man looked at Hubby and said, “Hold her close.”

Where to begin?
It’s embarrassing to admit that I thought of you all many times on this trip, sometimes even by name. I do have friends in real life too, honest! But I was frequently thinking of how I would write up certain things for this blog and you, my beloved blog buddies.
After I got through the security check in San Diego, I sat down and typed this:
The first pat down was painless. They not only had the footprint floor mat facing away from the maddening crowd of the security line, they took me a little ways off to the side. There was an onlooker this time (like in D.C.) but only because my “patter” was a trainee. She was gentle (unlike in D.C.). The only hitch was I needed to hold my pants up while she frisked my legs. “This is embarrassing enough without my pants falling down,” I said. She was kind enough to let me break protocol and put my arms down for that part of the procedure.
When she checked my belly, I said, “Yes, it’s real.” Both women laughed and gushed over how cute and petite it was. I managed to survive that part. 😉
They wished me a Happy Mother’s Day, and I was on my way.
So TOTALLY not me.
Even though it was a little sad to be traveling on Mother’s Day, since I’m obviously a mother, thanks to this beer gut, I got a hearty Happy M. D. from the kind lady I bought my lunch from, as well as one of the flight attendants, who gushed over my belly, asked me several questions, told me a little about her son, and then finally continued beverage service. When she finished she came back, leaned her arm against the overhead bin above me, and we chatted some more.
The woman who did my pat down in the Birmingham airport on the way home asked me similar questions in the same exact tone as she gave the run-down of the procedure. Matter-of-factly she said, as her hands did their business: Read the rest of this entry