My daughter is such a seasoned traveler that I can forget she's a child.
We've taken many trips together across the country, and she's logged a couple hundred thousand air miles before age eight, an age at which I had never even flown. We were on the road (and in the air) again together last week.
While browsing magazines in the C Terminal at the Atlanta airport she says, "No time for that Dad. We've got to pop down to A terminal for some takeout before hopping the 57 at B-31. We board in twenty minutes and we've got a sweet zone number. Flight's overbooked so we can't take chances. Let's get moving!"
This while she was purchasing a novelization of the movie Igor with her debit card, which was declined.
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