Our vacation started when the limo guy came to pick us up. I was romping with Samantha on the front lawn, killing time, because we were totally ready to leave, with all our luggage (7 bags) lined up on the floor of the garage.
The limo guy did NOT make us listen to classical music, which was a relief. We ran into no traffic and got to the airport lickety split. Curbside checkin took four bags off our hands, and we headed in to security where there was no one in line at all.
At this point, I am a little worried about my clinical trial drugs in the insulated bag with both an ice pack and a bag of ice cubes (in case they make me throw away the ice pack). So I say to the xray screener guy, "I have an ice pack in my suitcase."
He asks me, "What's in it?"
This question confuses me. What is in my ice pack? What does he think is in my ice pack? So I say rather emphatically, "Ice."
His expression does not change at all -- he just repeats his question, and I realize what he really wants to know is what I am using the ice pack for. So I say, "Drugs," and then realize almost immediately that this is almost as bad an answer as "Ice." So I clarify that it is chemotherapy and he nods and waves me through.