Prague! Finally! (Or Maybe Later)

So, here we are. Not in Prague. When F surprised me with this trip last month for our anniversary I was elated. We had been meaning to and actually tried to go to Prague since before the dawn of time (aka becoming parents). As the day of our departure approached and the several bags were packed (not ours but our kids' stuff to schlep to abuela's), it seemed that maybe nature would intervene again. While we reveled in tshirts and sun on Monday (68 degrees!) there was a storm (rain and snow) forecast for Wednesday. Wednesday morning came. I slipped on some threadbare leggings so as not to greet the Fresh Direct man in my underwear. I add this detail because it is Thursday morning, I am in Munich, and I am still wearing the leggings. I am a schlepper as my mother told me aghast that my "purse" is a "tote bag" and what is wrong with me. Nothing, but I did forget that I was in home attire when I slipped on my rain boots and headed off to school with luggage to attend our beloved food chain tradition. In the rain. Fast forward to Wednesday afternoon. L has brought the littles up to abuela's and I have secured the bigs and F and the bags and we are ready to go. Subway to NJ transit train to air train to Jet airways flight. That is 99% Indian passengers and 100% delayed. For no reason. Bullshit because lesser "ethnic" airlines have less pull in the line up. They said weather, then a malfunction. Then we realized that there was no way we would make our connection in Brussels (that is right, Belgium, not Germany, which I avoid and abhor and from where I sit). After futzing about for hours we thought of calling EXPEDIA to cancel or reroute it all. So much travel for just a day in Prague. Insane. F called 5 TIMES. As soon as he would lay out the problem the line would cut out and he would have to start over as the flight began to finally board. It was nerve wrecking and even though F bought insurance we were not sure that it would hold given that we had already checked in. So we got on the plane, just in case. We were near the bulkhead (yay!) but also near not one, but 4 one year olds. I shit you not that one of these babies made a distressed "eh eh" sound for 85 % of the trip. 10% she cried desperately and for 5-10 minutes she slept. Her parents seemed like idiots to me. They continued to dangle plastic forks and other random items in her face but never offered her water or milk or food or a chupete- her ears were most likely bothering her. I was tempted to take over the get the baby to calm down operation but decided to not offer unsolicited advice (which I detest) and I focused on not choking on the liters of perfume that the woman on my right wore. Suffice it to say it was a loud and smelly flight. When dinner came at 10:30pm, the stewardess was very upset that I did not want it. She was like a Jewish (but I guess Indian) grandma foisting food onto me and I just wanted some shut eye on F's shoulder. Wait. I need to go catch my third flight. To learn more about that, check back later. I just may be in Prague when I next write.