Because It's Saturday Night...And I'm Packing

One of you "Type A & Loving It" folks needs to come over and help me pack my stuff.

I leave for Chicagoland in three days. Whoo hoo, except for the packing.

I would not be stressing over packing if it wasn't for the dang baggage fees. $15 for the 1st bag -- so that's $45 each way for me and my boys.

I would really rather spend that $45 on something else. Anything else.

These fees should come with a guarantee of some sort. If they lose your bag, they have to pay you 1000 times the baggage fee. Or, if they lose your bag, somebody gets castrated...because we all know that paying the fee doesn't mean the airline won't possibly lose my stuff.

Just kidding about the castration. (Sorta.)

I'm trying to try to have one suitcase for me and one for my boys, but you know how each checked bag must be under 50 lbs, right? That's room for a bra, my hair products and like three pairs of shoes. Epic fail.

*Note to friends & fam: If I don't look cute when you see me, blame it on airline luggage fees.

How come I can't be like my kids? All my eldest wants to bring is a black Star Wars t-shirt and some black jeans. I tried to explain to him that he's gonna die in that get-up because Grandma and Grandpa do not have air conditioning. He says he'll sit in front of a fan. Oh, okay player.

Hmm... is this a pre-teen goth/emo/alternative stage? He's 8 years old and I would not be surprised if he starts listening to the Cure and saying, "You just don't understand me!" After all, this is on his playlist lately.

My other son just wants to bring his PlayStation and a skateboard. He claims he doesn't need to pack clothes. He'll just wear the same thing everyday, or, "You can buy me some new clothes when we get there."

And with that, 17 more gray hairs sprouted from my head.

Three days to get everything packed into, hopefully, two checked bags. Pray for me.