Airports should really be joyful places. Exciting new destinations, emotions, opportunities. All obscured by the sheer stress and pandemonium of getting to the airport on time, checking in on time, getting through damn security.
Whilst I shifted along in the queue to security, I saw a bored, scruffy haired boy, probably around 5yrs old. He clung to a tatty old teddy bear by its neck in a headlock grip. It was, delightfully, a bottom heavy teddy. Its arse swung wildly from side to side as the boy plodded in slowly, whilst its head remained paralysed in a death grip. I’m not sure why, but it was awesome to watch. To be that kid. (And not that bear.)
I only ever remember to enjoy every second of holidays when it’s over. I’ll try to avoid that this time.
KJK 