I’m home. I think my cat actually missed me. He keeps rubbing against me and hasn’t bitten me once. Well maybe just once but I was askin’ for it.
While this was the best vacation I ever had I must say that we didn’t leave Italy without incident.
While we were checking in at the airport, the cabdriver came running up and said that we had taken the room key with us and could we please give it to him to bring back to the hotel.
We assured him that we did nothing of the sort. We were quite sure of this since as Liz said how could we carry home the equivalent of
a gas station bathroom key attached to a hubcap?
Just to reassure the driver though, we looked through our carry on luggage. No key.
It wasn’t until we were on the plane flying over Omaha (I’m pretty sure we pass Omaha on the way from Venice) that Marcia while searching her bag for a sock to put over her eyes (don’t ask) that she sheepishly pulled out the arm shaped key to room 155.
“How did you not notice it?”
“With all the stuff I was bringing back my bag weighed a ton. How would I notice an extra quarter of a ton? And besides, shut up. I’ll mail it back when we land”
It was kind of refreshing hearing Marcia tell me to shut up again. All this niceness was getting old.