I’m picking up Husband at the airport this afternoon. Only 239 minutes to go!
Only 238 minutes to go!
Only 237 minutes to go!
Ok, it didn’t seem like that much, but it’s actually longer than I thought
Five minutes before we leave for the airport and I’m posting in my blog. Husband thinks I’m charging my phone. I’m off to Sydney for a week to catch up with friends and enjoy a big cup of chill time, so I’m not sure when I will post next. Until whenever, take care and lots of love xxx
Shortly after David waved us off at the airport yesterday I finally stopped leaking, but nearly started right up again when the check-in assistant informed me I would not be allowed into New Zealand without a return ticket. She toyed with us a while before bringing us to the Emirates ticket counter, where I purchased a refundable one-way ticket from Auckland to Brisbane. We were on our way.
The flight was pretty uneventful, except for Husband chatting up the girl on his other side. I could hear him yapping away through my MP3 headphones – this from the man for whom saying ‘How are you?’ constitutes an emotionally draining conversation. He was so engrossed he didn’t notice me sulking, even when I closed my tray on his fingers.
I felt much better when we disembarked in Singapore and noticed her unfeasibly large bottom.
(I mean, he could have chatted up someone with a nice arse.)
At Auckland Airport, Husband collected the bags and pulled faces at me from the other side of passport control where I queued for nearly an hour. The welcoming committee consisted of The Bro, the rest of the family having buggered off to a party.
The Bro and Husband