Of Pins, Travel and Granddaughters

My buddy Shaun had a link in a comment yesterday for something like this CVN-69 pin. (Yeah, three links in one line, I'm outta control!)

I say "something like" that pin in the photo, because what I am holding up in that photo is the real deal, given to me by The Nuke back when she was part of Ike's reactor department. That's the "officer" version. The enlisted version (which I wish I had) is blue with gold lettering.

Here's what that link offers:

(Source)

Not quite the same innit? But if you don't know a member of the crew, that button would suffice. Like they say, it's the thought that counts.

As mentioned earlier this week, two of the grandchildren are in town. Within 24 hours we were having quite a time.

Things didn't start that great.

First off, The WSO's flight into Detroit (from SFO) sat on the ground for an hour before a gate opened up where the passengers could disembark, sprint down the concourse to their connecting flight, only to watch it lift off, gear up and disappear into the gloaming.

Secondly, The WSO's flight was supposed to end in Boston. Some 60 miles to the north-north-east of my position. Not a terribly long drive but much farther than the 25 miles to T. F. Green airpatch just south of Providence. (The aerodrome is actually six miles from Chez Sarge as the crow flies. Crows can cross Narragansett Bay with ease, my car cannot.)

Alright, are you with me so far? As I suggested above, The WSO was late disembarking, through no fault of her own, her connecting flight to Boston was long gone by the time she and the granddaughters got off the plane.

Way to go Delta.

That, by the way, was the last flight to Boston.

Queue Big Time's Mom and Dad. They live in Michigan, not far from Detroit Metropolitan Wayne County Airport (DTW in airline speak). They were overjoyed that perhaps they would get the grandkids for an overnight stay.

Cruel fate intervened at that point.

Seems there was one last flight out of DTW bound for New England. Just so happens that The WSO could make that flight and Delta booked her upon it. Also, wonder of wonders, said flight was going to T. F. Green (PVD in airline speak).

Big Time's Mom and Dad? Bummed, they'd have to see the grandkids later.

The WSO's Mom and Dad? Ecstatic, shorter drive, no need to drive in the environs of Boston, which can be a real PITA. Even late at night. DAMHIK.

So the grandkids arrived, less stress on Your Humble Scribe and I get to hear conversations like this, all week:

The Missus Herself: Are you hungry baby girl?

Little Bit: Yes, but no Korean food. I don't like Korean food.

Your Humble Scribe: Little Bit, you do remember that grandma is Korean right?

[Eyes shift back and forth, looking for an out...]

Little Bit: Oh wait, I like Korean food, it's Chinese food that I don't like.

Your Humble Scribe: Little Bit, you know that grandpa loves Chinese food. Right?

[Eyes shift back and forth, looking for an out...]

Little Bit: Yes, grandma, I'm hungry. Let's eat. [Adopts a look of total innocence, as if the previous exchange had never happened.]

Later that day we discuss boogers.

I love being a grandfather.

Our tribe's newest member.
(The one on the left, ignore the geezer with the crazed look.)