The Boy and I flew out to St Louis and caught a ride with cousins Ddot and Yaj (not their real names) to their house on Indian Lake just outside of world famous Cuba Missouri. (We'll figure out what it is world famous for later. Something about Historic Route 66, murals, and sausage gravy.)
Irbua dropped us off at San Jose Airport. I wanted to be there early based on the experience Mrs Notthat and I had a few weeks earlier with massive lines. But two things made this checkin a bit different:
• It was a Wednesday and not a Sunday. The plane wasn't even 2/3 full to LA (although that may just be due to people being smart enough to stay away from that place).
• The new Terminal B was open.
In any case, there WAS NO LINE. We walked through the maze and were directed to a counter right away. This has never happened to me in my many years of flying.
(There was a short line at curbside checkin though.)
We arrived at LAX just in time for the start of the Germany/Spain World Cup match. The Boy wore his new Germany jersey (which miraculously arrived a day early - just in time for this trip) and a surprising number of people commented on it and the World Cup in general. There were a few pulling for Germany (including a security guy in San Jose who probably would have given The Boy a high five except it's against the rules for them to do anything enjoyable) and others pulling for Spain (or some other loser country).
We were able to watch the first half but then had to board the plane to St Louis. I kept following the score on my iPhone, and had to break the news to The Boy that Spain had scored, but was forced to turn it off at the 86 minute mark. So we spent the next four hours knowing that Germany had likely lost, but not being able to confirm it until we landed. (The flight to St Louis was full, and as is required by the FAA, had a kid on it a few rows up from us that screamed bloody murder at least half the way.)
The Boy's sorrow was quickly replaced with enthusiasm once we started driving past all the firework stands while heading out to Cuba.
We walked out of this place with five bags of things that go boom - some quite spectacularly.
And just to prove that fireworks are dangerous, while lighting the last one for the evening (something called the Mortar of Death), The Boy backed away a bit too enthusiastically and ended up in a ditch. Some ice on his wrist and he is fine and ready for today.
It promises to be warm (mid to upper 80s), muggy, and probably rainy off and on. A lot of time will be spent on and in the lake though, so no worries.
That's it - move along...