how that flight went.

Don't worry, people. I made it home safe. I mean, we made it home safe. I mean really, you were mostly concerned about me having a heart attack on the plane - Chuck, we all know, can handle himself just fine.

It wasn't my favorite flight.
It also wasn't the worst flight.

Actually, this flight was a pretty good demonstration of what flying with Chuck is like.

We were delayed leaving Baltimore - thunderstorms in Denver (where we were taking a connecting flight to Seattle). Now, I have spent the last 10 years with pilots. I like to say I grew up around them. It was a treat. Or something. My understanding is that you don't really want to fly near those storm things. Apparently, what they meant was "through" them. Going around them was just fine. Oh good. Thanks for clearing that up.

The pilots came on and did my most hated thing ever. They talked about "issues" and "problems" and I didn't want to hear about that. I want to hear that butterflies are going to affix themselves to the wings and bring us down safely. Other than that, spare me.

Apparently, the thunderstorms had closed in.
Apparently, it was going to be a "bumpy" landing and the flight attendants needed to be seated a-sap. I do not like this. I like my flight attendants walking around normal and happy so I know everything is normal and happy.

And this is when having Chuck around actually comes in handy.
First, I had resigned myself to jumping from the plane and/or assuming crash position. I figured we were doomed. Evidently, I was slightly overreacting. I felt I was reacting appropriately. I don't really have a history of overreacting, so...

Chuck continued his "stance" that everything was fine. I said that he was a liar and didn't know what he was talking about.

Well, see, when Chuck was an airline pilot, he used to fly into Denver. Hence, he may, slightly, know what he is talking about. It pains me to admit this.

I may have been a little closed off.
I may have not wanted to buy what Chuck was selling.
I may have been a tad stubborn. Me? Never.

I told you I'm a treat to fly with.

Chuck had no choice. He started to draw. If I wouldn't listen, then he would force me to look at what the situation was, rather than continue revising my will.

And here is the diagram.

Chuck drew the terminals, the runways, the approaches, and our flight path. That's a little thunder cloud showing where we should have landed and the plane swinging around to another runway that is a-ok and storm free.

I was then told, "we will turn right twice and then we'll be landing."

I hate when he'd right.

Not only was that exactly the runway we used for landing, but it was two right turns and straight on 'til morning (or something like that).

And we didn't die. And it wasn't that bumpy.
We flew around the thunderstorms and apparently that is ok. Who knew?

Oh that would be Chuck.
Because he's always right. I hate that he's always right.
Oh and I still hate flying. FYI.

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