You know that crappy airline that I have been whining about recently? Well, they are now threatening to take back all our miles that we have hoarded like they are the last pound of butter during the Depression. Something about expiration dates.
OK, maybe I wasn’t hoarding mine. I’m all about doing what it takes to get out of peasant class so maybe on occasion I have used miles to spring for the old upgrade. I prefer to use The Husband’s miles but every once in a while he’d catch me and go all crazy on me. Something about theft, I don’t know. Something about using them for our “round the world” vacation that is clearly not going to happen with these damn kids. Not that I wouldn’t take them around the world. It’s just that The Boy is fiesty after a 2 hour puddle jumper with limited oxygen masks available for an in flight pressure change issue. Can you even imagine how he would be somewhere over Nepal? It’s all The Husband’s fault for telling me his password. There is no honor in frequent flyer miles. Why would I use mine when I can just as easily use yours? Wrong, I know, but it’s an upgrade-eat-upgrade world.
On what I assure you is a totally unrelated note, Carl, you are invited over to dinner. I just need your FF password…. For informational purposes only, of course.
Now it seems that the “we-are-going-to-make-your-miles-that-you-can-never-use-anyway” disappear. Or some of them. We really can’t get a straight answer from anyone. All I know is that we are talking about a LOT of miles. Impossible to use, but The Husband is on the hunt to Use Those Miles If It’s The Last Thing He Does By Golly. Which means I am going to have to bite the bullet and get a new passport.
I can’t believe I let it expire and didn’t renew it immediately. You would think that the Queen Of The Trip To London Just For Lunch On Her Birthday would sleep with her passport under her pillow.
Kids ruined me. No really. I had the hottest passport picture known to man. I was smokin’ hot. Tan. Young. Unwrinkled. And I don’t mean my clothes. Then I got married/passport expired/had a baby/fell apart. I just kept telling myself that I would renew my passport when I looked better. I mean, I still had Canada.
No longer. And I have no money for Botox so it looks like this lines in my face that represent the fact that I am NOT young anymore aren’t going away. So tomorrow I will have The Husband take my passport picture.
With hair in a ponytail, Chapstick on my lips and probably a baby in my arms–just out of the camera’s view. It’s either that or Cincinnati. I guess that makes it a no-brainer.