Departure Storm

Airline families will all understand. There is a gathering storm. Some pilots have a padded room in the back of their house where the suitcases and uniforms are kept so they can get ready in peace. So the family isn’t exposed.

I check in late today so it is important to wait ’till the last minute then tear through the house on the underwear, epaulette, sock hunt. An early start on any of this would give the appearance of overpreparation.

Where’s my fucking hat? It’s hanging on the guestroom door, and don’t say the EFF word in front of the children. They all grew up and moved away, where’s my fucking epauletts?  Did you check your ass for them? I’ll but they flew up your Captain ass, honey.

OK, so the routine has changed a little over the years but today the “haired one” is around and as a result I have to wear clothes while I run around looking for clothes. An additional three minutes will be required.

I love my job, especially the view outside. I think I love being home more.


2 Responses to “Departure Storm”

  1. My goodness you are your daughter’s father (lol). Enjoy the rest of your flights.

  2. Is that seriously how you spell epaulette? That is so disturbing.

    By the way, the other day Nicolaus put on a Marines shirt and was being a soldier (THANK YOU MOM for giving him a fucking marines shirt). Graham took one look at the [ep-pill-letts] and said, “Hi, Captain!!” And he told us all that brother is a pilot. Repeatedly. To Nicolaus’ hilarious annoyance.

    Gorgeous photo. But yeah – home is good.

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