The bud and I recently took a trip to Seattle. Walking through the airport, pushing a VERY loaded stroller (arms out-stretched, head down, huffing and puffing to get that thing to the gate), I noticed that all the tiniest people have the most luggage. And they have little to no ability to carry it themselves.
The oldest people barely have any luggage at all. We've got 80-yr-olds rolling with a wind-breaker, fanny pack, and - let's get real - one of those secret hide away wallets under their shirts and they get to have airport staff wheel them around like kings and queens (which, they are).
Meanwhile, I'm over here juggling one hundred thousand baggage items, a toddler, and the dirty looks of judgy people who are annoyed that my kid makes a peep. (Or a scream, maybe... but do I need to remind you, 29-yr-old hipster with your vintage leather bag, overpriced headphones, and iProducts popping out of every worn-out pocket of your skinny jeans, that we all started as toddlers?! EVEN YOU. You and your bearded face.)
I can easily pack everything I could need or want in one carry-on bag. If I really had to, I could even consolidate to the size of my JanSport backpack from 1998. But Emmett. EMMETT. He requires a full suitcase, a gate-checked stroller, a carseat bag, and a fully-stocked (read: over-stocked) diaper bag with all the essentials plus emergency measures. And of course, he must have his tiny, adorable backpack with his special items that he gets to carry. While I (read: the pack horse) carry the rest.
What. Is. Up. With. This. Picture.
(Disclaimer regarding the hipster reference: Wayne and I have hipster bags and all the major iProducts, skinny jeans, and worn out denim --- but we certainly do not have over-priced headphones.)
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