We arrived at the LAX international terminal around 9:30 am on Sunday, January 24th. It had been a rather quiet trip from Bakersfield to Los Angeles. We were in Dad's big truck --- ahhh, so much better than Mom's riding lawn mower (Toyota Camry, 4 cylinder wannabe speed demon). Mom and Dad sat up front, and I cruised in the backseat, comfortably strapped into my Graco bucket seat. Grandma kept me company back there. When we got to the airport, my carseat transformed into what I like to call my super-duty, range-rovin vehicle, or simply SRV -- my sweet first set of wheels. Quite frankly, it's a chick magnet. Grandma powered me along. As we entered the airport, I couldn't help but feel relieved. "Thank the Lord, I don't have to learn that language or that language or that language." The sounds coming over the loudspeakers were not at all familiar. But, I was in an airport again. Woo hoo! I love airports. Firs...
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