Wednesday, January 14, 2026

 

SO FAR SO GOOD?

Well so far, exactly two weeks into this new year, I’m not so sure I like 2026.

We started out just fine.  Off to Mexico for a week on a beach, in the warn sunshine.  And the best part about an all-inclusive resort – plenty of food, all varieties, all the time – and I didn’t have to menu plan or cook once.

The wedding was pretty.  The party was fun.  The people we were with were a happy bunch; it was all good.

Until our teenager came down with a fever.  We have no idea where it came from but eventually I convinced him to take some Tylenol and the fever broke.  We had insurance, but who really wants to play that game in a foreign country?

Then he broke out in a rash.  Was it an after effect of the fever?  Was it something else?  He said don’t worry about it, but it kept getting worse.  The next morning, as we got ready to head back to the airport, I again offered him some antihistamines just in case it was an allergic reaction (at this point it sure looked like hives).  It took less than ten minutes for the Reactin to kick in and the rash disappeared before our very eyes.  Don’t know what set it off, but an allergy it definitely was.

The trip home went as per usual: wait in a line for the bus to the airport to wait in line to check our luggage to wait in line for airport food to wait in line to board the plane … and then finally that five hour flight we all enjoy so much.  Mission accomplished.

There was even a bit of a bonus – we arrived back in Regina 15 minutes early.  We might get home before midnight after all. 

Except … when you are trying to get three people back through Customs you require three passports.  I kept coming up one short, no matter how many times I checked my purse.  This is not a good thing, believe me.

I don’t know if there is such a thing as a pleasant, patient, or understanding Customs Officer, but if there is he’s not the one we got.  Someone had definitely peed in his cornflakes that morning.  I dug through my purse three times, obvious panic setting in and all he said is “go over there”.  We did, and I dumped the contents out on a bench – passport #3 was not there.  Pockets? No.  Other carry on?  Also no.  It had to have fallen out on the plane!  Which was about to leave for Saskatoon! 

Let me tell you an old lady can sprint up stairs pretty fast when she needs to … only to be stopped by an airport security lady who dashed forward, pointed to the floor, and excitedly insisted I couldn’t cross THE RED LINE.  I hadn’t even seen THE RED LINE ten minutes earlier when I had entered *Canada* and now she was pulling a plastic curtain across to make sure I couldn’t go back.  I told her what my problem was; she wasn’t nearly concerned enough to suit me. 

I said I just wanted to go find it … row 18, middle seat … She said “don’t worry, the plane is here for the night.”  I said “No it’s not!  It’s leaving right away for Saskatoon!”

Realistically the whole double search (they didn’t find it the first time) couldn’t have taken very long, we were picking up our luggage at the same time as our friends, but it sure seemed to take forever.  And, what are the chances? I was joined at the top of the stairs and this side of THE RED LINE by a father/son duo with the same missing passport problem.  The son looking miserable, and the father’s cornflakes had obviously met the same fate as the Customs Officer’s by the looks of things.  I felt sad for the kid – I knew how he felt, and I didn’t have any heavy judgement coming down on my head.  It was Glen’s passport that was missing and he was good-naturedly trying to recall everything that had happened to the guy in the movie Terminal.  He thought maybe he would marry the gal at THE RED LINE if he was stuck there for life.

It all ended well for us.  The passport was found.  We did round two with the Customs agent, his mood had not improved but we all checked out fine so he had to let us go.  Truth to tell, it must have been when I got my pen out to fill out the customs form that the passport fell out of my purse, so it was Customs’ fault in the first place!

(I do want to apologise to Bev, seated across the aisle from me, trying to keep her toddler asleep while the Regina passengers were deplaning.  I’m betting that two searches of the seat next to you wasn’t the best thing that could happen.  I’m so sorry if he woke up!)

And, that was only week #1.  Since we’ve been home we’ve all been sharing some kind of nasty and persistent stomach bug.  I don’t know if Montezuma is to blame, but I’m not enjoying it.

Sure hope 2026 gets better from here.