We have way too much lift off!

One the way home from our Oregon/Washington trip...

Mom, Mallory and I pulled up to Portland International and got all of our suitcases out of the rental car and entered the terminal. Mallory complained of her luggage being too heavy and I flashed back to the hotel that morning where she had to sit on her suitcase in order to make it close. Finally able to zip it, she said “I hope no one asks me to open it!”

When we got inside the terminal we saw that we had to check in upstairs. There was an elevator around the corner, but an escalator right ahead of us. Mom asked “which one?” I hurriedly said “Escalator,” hoping to get the show on the road (er, or runway). Mom and Mallory hopped on the escalator and stated the ascent. I however, realized I was carrying 2 suitcases and was having a hard time, wondering, “do I step first then drag them both behind me, or put one on first and drag the second?” Pictures of me falling all over myself and the luggage entered my mind. It was incredible how hard of a decision it was just to get on the moving stairs. When a lady passed me to ask “can I help you?” I finally breathed and said, “No, I got this.”

One lift of the luggage with one step and one pulled behind me…. Ah, there. It was that easy and now the electricity was doing all the work for me.

And then I looked up. I am now sure if I heard the “oh no!” first or just saw the tumbling pink GIGANTIC suitcase as it bumped and bounced (quite high) down the escalator. My first reaction was anger. Had my sister let her luggage go in a lackadaisical fashion and now I was to deal with her laziness? I looked down and realized that there no way to let go of my own bags to try and stop the wayward one, so I did what any normal person would do. I steeled my body to accept the blow, knowing that I couldn’t let it push me backward (I was afraid of my long hair getting caught in the grooves!!!!). On the last bounce I closed my eyes and it hit my forearm and the bag in front of me and came to a stop. As I opened one eye and then the other, I could picture the people watching and what they were thinking, so I turned around away from the crown and laughed and laughed. When I reached the top, mom was helpful to grab the wayword bag, while Mallory was doubled over laughing trying to show me the handle still in her hand. It had broken off when she tried to lift it up off of the last stair. I told her that that broken handle just saved her life because I was ready to pummel her. We were still giggling as we walked to our gate. I exclaimed “well, we might as well get on the plane now because I am not scared anymore.” Looks like all my strengthen training paid off. Nah, I am pretty sure it was a save by my guardian angel, who is quite busy these days.