I woke up in my own bed this morning, which wasn’t exactly the plan.
I’m glad to be home anyway. And I am surprised to be up before the children, who haven’t yet had a visit from Santa.
A last minute holiday deal made tickets to Denver affordable, and we left Christmas Eve to visit Jenn’s family in Scottsbluff, Nebraska.
We were lucky to narrowly miss two feet of snow, and when we arrived, trucks were still dumping white stuff from the runways wherever they could find room.
The kids had a wonderful Christmas, and even enjoyed what for them is a rare opportunity to build snowmen.
When we heard Wednesday night that Denver was expecting another 10 to 20 inches of snow, and airlines were allowing people to change tickets without fees, we decided to reschedule and come home a day early.
It had started snowing at DIA yesterday by about noon, and we were out at 2:45 on time.
Judging by the news this morning, we made the right choice. Hundreds of flights have been canceled in and out of DIA, and the snow is still falling.
Travel home went smoothly. We had a tight connection in Cleveland, and Graham was starting to show signs of fatigue, but we had enough time for a quick potty break and to pick up a sandwich.
We narrowly missed getting stranded in Denver twice.
When we landed in Louisville, Graham had reached his limit. He threw up. I wasn’t fast enough with the barf bag. He was covered. The seat was covered. I had a few spots myself.
Even this morning, I’m thinking to myself, “So close…”