In the nick of time

We already had our alarm clocks set for an early wake-up call last Wednesday.

They were set for 3 a.m. since we had a 6:30 a.m. flight to catch to Houston Hobby Airport.

What we weren’t counting was a surprise at 2:45 a.m. when one of our decorative type trays came crashing off the wall and onto our entry way floor.

I slept through the melee but Gracie didn’t. She was scared to death someone was breaking into our house and woke me up to investigate.

Luckily I didn’t have to use any Kung Fu Fighting skills to subdue a would-be intruder. It just made a mess with all the trinkets spilled all over the floor.

Still the damage had been done. Our last 15 minutes of dream time was rocked so we went ahead and got the ball rolling for a trip to Will Rogers World Airport.

What we didn’t know it was just a foreboding of what was to become a very eventful trip to the airport.

Our goal was to leave at 4 a.m. so we would have plenty of time to drive to the airport, do the off-site parking thing and go through Transportation Security Administration to meet my sister and brother-in-law Missy and Mike Clark for a long weekend at Galveston Island.

Everything was going along very smoothly. I got ready ahead of Gracie and went to fetch her an early Diet Coke from Love’s Country Store.

We were all neatly packed and I loaded the bags in the car and we are off by 4:03 a.m. right on schedule.

I use an electric razor so I put off shaving until we were between SH 9 and Newcastle to knock off the overnight growth.

I was thinking about putting my razor in my backpack that held all my meds (yes we are old) and some other necessary items when it dawned on me that I didn’t load said backpack.

We were nearly to Newcastle.

Gracie turned around and we headed back to Purcell to procure the necessary bag. Gracie really didn’t say anything much so I figured I wasn’t too far into the Dog House.

Wrong.

I started continuing to shave before the command came. “Quit shaving that’s bothering me.”

When we arrived back at 201 N. 8th I was getting out of the car to go after the backpack. “Stay in the car,” came the not so calm instruction from my spouse of 41 years.

We were back on the road. It was now 5:03 a.m. and the clock was definitely ticking for us to make the flight.

My sister had called to check in on us since we were supposed to meet at Will Rogers at 5 a.m.  I had to break the news to her.

Don’t tell local law enforcement but I think Gracie stretched the speed limit just a bit on our way back to Purcell.

As we were passing Riverwind for the third time I was wondering what our chances would be of making the plane.

But we arrived at the off-site parking, took the shuttle and were at Will Rogers by 6:04.

I thought we had a fighting chance.

The TSA line didn’t move very fast and as we were putting our shoes back on it came over the loudspeaker for John and Grace Montgomery to come to the gate, “Your plane is about to take off.”

I didn’t have time to put my belt on. It was draped around my neck as we boarded the plane.

As luck would have it, the gate was right by the TSA check-in and we ran up as they were calling our names for a second time.

We hustled up to the gate and Gracie said, “We’re the Montgomerys.”

We got on and found literally the last two seats on the plane in middle seats very far apart but at least we were on the aircraft.

Our vacation mates later said they were “very relieved” that they saw us board. Don’t know who was more relived but the feeling was very mutual since we hadn’t been able to go on a vacation in several years.

I was glad I didn’t become the really bad guy.

I made sure I had the backpack for the flight back home.

Missy checked as well.