Leavin'

Oh what a difference a day makes. Yesterday at this time, I was tapping my fingers impatiently, waiting for my dear husband to call me back and tell me if he was able to rebook our flights back to the US. I am traveling alone with Babycakes and Miss Bee and had hoped to use my meager frequent flyer miles to upgrade our (full fare economy) tickets to business class.

Customer service call centers love my husband and they will go out of their way to help him, so charming is he. If I call, I inevitably get the most surly representative available, so he is the family's point man for ordering things, making reservations, and solving any other problems that require use of the telephone.

In the past few years, flying international economy on United Airlines has become little more than punishment. There is the horrible food, unfriendly service, and a long roster additional fees. As they have expanded their "Economy Plus" section, they have reduced legroom in steerage to mere inches. God forbid if the person if front of you reclines his seat! The last time I flew, I felt like an overcooked waffle inside of a smelly foam waffle iron.

With regard to business class-- I don't really care much for the free champagne, or the airline's attempt at gourmet meals, or marginally nicer flight attendants. It's not about the cachet. What I want out of business class is the space. The space to get up and take my two children to the lavatory, to nurse my daughter without her kicking a stranger in the stomach, to hold Miss Bee on my lap when she is feeling tired. . . glorious, glorious legroom.

Within minutes, my dear husband calls me back and says he talked to the nicest representative who was able to use my miles and confirm our upgrade. (Maybe I really should start listening in on these telephone calls.) The catch is we have to fly a week earlier than planned. "No problem," I chirp.

New reservations taken care of, I am confronted by the fact that I am leaving in less than a week. With Babycakes under my arm, I run several wild laps through my apartment. Ohmygoodness. There is so much to do. . .