I get our bags put back together and down to the lobby. I liberate the plastic laundry bag from the room, just in case Sunshine doesn't make it through the shuttle ride. I find him a seat while we wait. A few minutes pass and he makes the dash to the bathroom in the lobby.

We load into the shuttle with two other couples and I think to myself that they may be in for far more than they bargained for on this ride. I've got the laundry bag out and I have every digit crossed. It may have been the longest ride 15 minute ride ever, but we made it without incident.

You want to see a sympathetic face? Ask an airport kiosk worker if they have any Imodium when they are all sold out. Three strikes and we are out - of luck that is. I do get more Pepto.

Security is of course backed up for miles and it feels like the heat is stuck on roast. I eye the family line, and pulling the 'he isn't feeling well' card, but I don't want to do anything that might have our boarding denied. So we get in the regular line and do the shuffle for more than an hour. We finally get through security and as I am getting my bag back together and walking away, I realize I just cleared through with a 32oz jug full of water. Oops. I'm not sure how I feel about the quality of that screening process, but since it really is just water I am happy to be headed to the gate.

We are in the front row of the economy section again. I wanted to be at the front of the line at customs. When I booked the seats I didn't realize that they also use those rows for people with mobility issues. Sunshine is feeling like death warmed over in the middle seat, with this lovely 90+ year old granny on the aisle. I don't mean this disrespectfully, as I only hope to live long enough to have this problem, but have you ever noticed that really old people often have a distinctive and not entirely pleasant smell? I didn't notice and he never said a word but to add insult to injury, poor Sunshine spent 4.5 hours in the middle seat trying not to breathe in old lady smell.

When I look back, I don't know why it didn't occur to me to change seats with him. It's just habit; I always have the window. On a clear day, I will spend the entire flight with my nose pressed to the glass watching the world drift by below us. Sunshine loves me enough not to complain about the fact that this means that he generally always gets stuck with the middle seat. This flight should have been the exception though. Sorry Sunshine!