...and there I was, standing at the airline ticket counter, trying to hand the ticket agent a pantyliner mini-pad when he asked for my ID. What's that? You don't carry pantyliners in your wallet? Huh. Maybe I am the only one.
Had I gone ahead and put it in a more secure location, I probably would not have then tried to hand it to the TSA agent 10 minutes later. Followed by an announcement that they shouldn't be alarmed by my carry-on luggage, as I am, indeed, carrying on my KitchenAid mixer. I checked the dough hook, though. Aren't I incredibly organized? And not at all insane?
I was leaving Arizona where it was, not kidding, eleventy billion degrees. I blame my complete lack of ability to appear somewhat normal on heat stroke.
So! I survived AZ and now I'm back in the pacific northwest gorgeousness of 70 degrees, sunny and spending afternoons at the park with The Most Beautiful Baby Ever.