So…you could say that yesterday didn’t really get off to a good start.

Somehow Hubbster and I managed to sleep through the alarm that went off at 3.30am.
Instead we were woken by a very excited Woo, who it seemed had been planning ahead, and in order to get a head start on the morning had slept in a pair of jocks…and his shoes and socks.

“Mum.” He nudged me gently.

I tried my best to prize one eye open. His toothless gummy grin was spread wide across his face. “None more sleeps ’til we go to Nana’s!” he said triumphantly.

“Yep,” I smiled back sleepily.

Then I bolted upright in bed so quickly you’d have thought the sheets were on fire.

“Hun,” I squealed in panic noting the morning light coming through the blinds. “Quick! What time is it?”
The realisation dawns on Hubbster too and he shot off the bed to retrieve his phone.

“Shit!” It’s ten past six.”

“Great!” I reply as I face-palm. “Our flight was ten minutes ago!”

Ten minutes later I am sitting on the couch with the laptop on my lap, soothing a sniveling six year old, as I booked flights t travel with the airline I vowed I would never fly with again.

After calling my parents to tell them the news, I crawled back into bed, figuring if I’ve just had to pay over $600 for this sleep in, I’d best try and get my money’s worth!

Fast forward to 12.05pm, and we are in the car on our way to Melbourne airport. The drive hasn’t been ideal, the Woo has had a blood nose, and Bubble has insisted on pulling over to use the toilet, and now, with only ten minutes to go until the airline close the check in, there is an enormous queue of traffic to get into the airport, the likes of which we have never seen. As the clock ticks ever closer to 12.15 I have all but given up hope. Even if we do get there with a few minutes to spare, it still doesn’t guarantee that we’ll be processed in time.

On reaching the terminal we decided the best course of action may be for me to run in and try to check in with the luggage, whilst Hubbster parked the car and brought the children in.

As I walked through the doors, a voice blasted out announcing that there was one minute until check in to the Gold Coast closed.

Making a mad dash to desk nine as instructed, I was already thanking my lucky stars. In…by the skin of my teeth! Phew!

“Hi,” I smile as I handed her my drivers license.

“Are you travelling alone today?” she asks surly faced.

“No, my three children are just on their way too.”

“Sorry Ma’am. I need to see them. I can’t check them in.”

“They will be coming any second,” I answer looking hopefully at the door.

“I’m sorry Ma’am. Check in is closing now and I can’t get you on another flight until tomorrow morning.”

“But why do you need to see them? If I was flying Qantas or Jetstar I’d be checking us in on the phone or on the computer?” I asked trying to understand the logic.

“That is a different airline Ma’am.”

Yeah….no shit!

It was at this point that I slipped in a little white lie about why I simply had to get on the flight. “My brother is sick. I need to get there,” I pleaded with genuine tears welling in my eyes. If Bubble can concoct an imaginary sister called Charlie, an imaginary brother of my own was worth a shot.
“Do you want me to check you in?”

“Um…no! I can’t go without my children!”

“Sorry Ma’am I can’t help you. Please move aside so I can serve the next people. Check in for the Gold Coast is now closed.”

Four minutes later, as Hubbster and the children burst through the doors, I shook my head sadly at them. It didn’t seem as though we would be getting to the Gold Coast today.

“What’s wrong Mummy?” asked Foghorn registering my expression. “Did we miss the plane?”
“Yes baby.’ I answered trying not to cry.

“Ma’am!”

I turn around as the lady on the desk says something into her two-way radio.

“Are these the three other passengers?”

“Yes.”

“Put your luggage on the belt. Let’s get you checked in.”

As the children and I kissed Hubbster goodbye and walked through the detector-thingy at customs I could barely believe that we would be actually getting on the flight.

“Hey honey,” I heard Hubbster call as I picked up our bags from the customs conveyor belt.
“Make sure you send your brother Rupert my regards!”

As relieved as I was though to have caught the flight, I can’t help feeling guilty about lying to the girl on the check out.  Is a lie ever okay?