Crackbaby scratchpaper

So Kathryn, Iris and I are coming back from our really fun trip to see family down in Boca Raton, Florida, and we're going through security at the airport in Fort Lauderdale. After removing our shoes, throwing our bags on the conveyer belt for the scanner, and going through the metal detector, the guy watching the xray machine turns to me and asks, "do you have a tool?" He was referring to a socket wrench or similar (in a bag that wasn't even mine), but the question completely threw me off due to its simultaneous vagueness and innuendo.

Then they noticed and confiscated the half-inch long sewing scissors buried in a tiny sewing kit Kathryn had in her bag. Even the security guard leaned over and quietly admitted to us that he, too, thought the whole thing was stupid. No doubt that our sewing scissors are going to appear in one of these eBay lots. Kathryn: "I'LL CUT OFF YOUR BUTTONS!! DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS!"

Poor Iris, she was so tired when we got onto the planes (from getting up so early in the morning). But overall she did very well. She even managed to nap while lying on our chests. I think we've over-conditioned her for flying. She seems to like seeing new things.

My favorite bit of airport security is the recurring sign that says "DO NOT EVEN *JOKE* ABOUT BOMBS!! WE TAKE THIS STUFF SERIOUSLY!" To be fair, I did read the story about the idiot that joked "Be careful with that! I have three bombs in that!", which is probably the idiot that made the sign happen.

And speaking of tools, a tidbit from Frank:

One of the tips we've heard to encourage little boys to go to the bathroom (#1) is to toss in a Cheerio as a target. So now I say to my wife "I gotta go sink a Cheerio..."