I hate the drive to the airport. Actually, I really just hate airports in general. So full of tearful goodbyes and germs and someone always has one of those suitcases with a squeaky wheel.
But a small part of me loves them for these moments.
With shades on, of course.
Owen somehow had energy to climb the million (or at least it felt like a million) steps back to our room. I don’t believe he protested bedtime that evening. 🙂