Dude, Where’s my Car?

So we made it.

We got in to Seattle in the 24 hour window they seemed to be allowing flights, and we were only a few minutes late. The next morning, the lines to for security had about 20 switchbacks, we had never seen the like. We also felt like kissing the woman in San Fran who allowed us to check our bags through to Boston even though we were staying in Seattle overnight, especially when we saw the lines just to check luggage. Boston wasn’t too bad but leaving the airport was hell. Oh the joy of Christmas.

Our journey home was made more interesting when we received a phone call from tree-climber when we had stopped at the Wedny’s in Nashua, and we were told that Little Bro’s car was stolen when he left it unlocked outside a Walmart south of Fitchberg and that we needed to go pick him up. As you may expect we were delighted to hear that we had several more hours of driving ahead of us after 24 hours of travel, but we felt bad for him. Fortuantely for us, the police officer who went to the “crime” scene was clever enough to look in the next lot over where the “stolen” car was recovered without incident.

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