caza feliz: día seis — no se preocupe

Since Thanksgiving is not a thing here, I was able to score some extremely cheap tickets to the Canary Islands for that week.  Rob didn’t have to work and the schools in Spain don’t send parents threatening letters every time their children are absent.   So we were excited to start our journey, and anxious to throw the kids in the pool while we sipped adult beverages.

And then…


…after almost three hours of sitting on the tarmac, we were told that the airport in Tenerife was closed.  We had to gather our belongings and exit the plane.  An hour later they gave us food vouchers.  An hour after that, we finally got back on the plane.  Why?


Doesn’t that make your blood start to boil a little?  Don’t you want to grumble under your breath?  Maybe, throw your hands up in disgust?  Stomp around and snap at your family?  I have been in this situation more times than I’d like to remember and it’s always been a seething cauldron of irritation.

The attitude at the Málaga airport?  A resounding…  shrug.

No one was screaming at the flight attendants.  No one was demanding to know what the hell was going on.  No one was complaining loudly to their friends and raging on Twitter.  Everyone just grabbed a cerveza and a bocadilla from the airport sandwich shop and chatted until it was time to go.  Spanish style.

When the plane finally took off, everyone on board erupted into applause.

After we finally arrived at the Tenerife airport, the captain announced that we’d have to sit there while a bus came to pick us up on the tarmac.   All the passengers… wait for it…


Could you see that happening at JFK?


no se preocupe

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