Extra Crunchy

I can't believe it's been over a week and a half and this is the first time I'm even opening my computer (not for lack of trying...the WiFi here leaves something to be desired). Let's go back to those 30 wonderful hours of us getting to Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

After saying goodbye to all of our parents and reassuring my mom that I did in fact have everything I needed, we proceed to check our bags.

"Identification?" the JetBlue employee asks as I shuffle through my purse looking for my ID. As I frantically go through my wallet for the third time, racking my brain for what bar I presumably didn't close my tab out at, I remember. My license is ironically sitting on my scanner at home because I wanted to "be prepared". Welp guess I won't be needing that. Now time to weigh my bag.

*places suitcase on scale and holds breath*

A whopping 64 pounds. 

At this point a line is forming behind me, I am starting to sweat at the thought that I probably have a full 7 pounds of peanut butter in my bag that I will inevitably have to throw out, and I'm pretty sure all of my "undergarments" are at the top of my suitcase.

After shoving ten pounds of who knows what in my carry on, taking out my jar of Jif and placing it in my purse, and holding my suitcase up slightly off the scale to take off the last two pounds, I can finally let the ten plus people who have formed behind me in the otherwise empty airport get on with their lives.

Now comes the time when I try to sneak past security with a full tub of Jif in my carry on. 

"Is that a full jar of peanut butter?" asks the extremely attractive TSA agent before I even get through security. "Yes" I try and say in my most seductive voice, hoping he will have a passion for peanut butter too, and we will bond over our love for peanut butter, fall in love, get married, and tell our love story to our three beautiful children who ironically will have peanut allergies.

"You can't bring that through."

There goes my love story. 

Even though "creamy spreads" are technically not allowed through security, this peanut butter is extra crunchy, so it should not be a problem. He took it anyway. I just stared at my poor jar of peanut butter, sitting in it's little tray. 

Look how sad and lonely it is.

After leaving my peanut butter and a part of my soul (okayyyy I'm being dramatic) at the Dulles airport, we were finally ready to start this 30+ hour trip. 

And here's an ugly picture of us.