The American Taxi was waiting outside at 4:15 a.m. It zipped us to O’Hare in 25 minutes. We checked a bag, breezed through security. The flight left on time. The attendant let me take both a stroopwafel a chocolate quinoa crisp. The plane landed safely at Reagan National Airport in Arlington, Virginia. The Uber showed up and deposited us at the apartment, exactly four hours door-to-door. Our daughter-in-law met us in the lobby with the baby.

It’s nice when things work. This happened two weeks ago. I imagine Friday, with flights slashed 10%, trying to relieve an air traffic control system groaning under the government shut down, air travel will not go so smoothly. Doting grandparents coast-to-coast will be stranded in hellish airport lounges while breathtakingly cute babies go undandled.

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