The holy land.
Finally, after decades of aching at the question of when.
When will I have a chance to press my feet upon such ancient soil?
And now, through shear chance, or something greater, the opportunity has descended from heaven to earth.
It's as if I'm the recipient of a golden ticket.
It must be.. destiny.
But to get there.. to get there will be hell.
Of course, you would have to take hell's highway to reach heaven's staircase.
(Please let it be an escalator.)
It's poetic gold, really.
She's not even a toddler.
She's going to throw a fit,
A screeching scandal for the eardrums of all those unfortunate co-passengers.
Will there be a childless business-man who curses our souls?
Will he squirm in his seat, with thoughts of murder while my baby explodes into restless screams?
12 brutal hours...
She can barely stand an hour long car ride through the country, let alone a full spin of the clock.
Yeah, we're going to be labeled as "those people".
You know, the sort of stock that won't shut up in the movie theater during the climax of an award winning film.
Imagine one of the passengers is stuck sitting next to a fat person who smells.
A crying baby on the airplane will be the final straw that breaks the camel's back.
That person will surely be driven to a full scale meltdown.
And I won't even have nail clippers to defend my family..
Maybe we should just go to the Wisconson Dunes...