"Magic" Marker

Our flight home from my brother's wedding was uneventful until we got to the gate. I was in a gift shop with Anna and I had just thought to myself, Wow! What an easy airport trip we had! Reagan National was almost empty. Getting there was easy, as was dropping off the rental and taking the shuttle to the terminal. Checking our luggage, going through security, finding the gate, all super smooth. Then my phone rang. Dave's on the other end: "We've got a big problem!" Now, for those of you who don't know/fully understand Dave, if he says it's a big problem, then it is a big problem. Not like when I say it's a big problem, and it is just something like, I left my trial size shampoo in the hotel shower! Like, Omigosh!
So, the big problem is this:
We* left the keys in the rental van and since we* had attached the keys to our car (which was parked in the Blue satellite parking in Orlando) and our house key also to the rental van keys, this was definitely a big problem. Especially since we* had left the other set of keys in our house for safekeeping. *Dave
I rush back to the gate and Dave takes off to retrace our journey from Budget rental to the gate. I immediately lug the two carryons, the two carseats, the two children (well, they actually walk) back to the gift shop because Jon has to have whatever I just bought Anna (except for a Transformers version, not Dora, of course). Next I take them to the bathroom, where I have to negotiate with Jonathan, please, please just try to pee, buddy it's okay if you don't have to, Mama just needs you to try, and then bite my tongue (See, I told you you had to go!!!) when he finally gives in and takes a long and giant whiz. Anna giggles hysterically and tries to catch his pee midstream. From the outside of the bathroom stall, I sound completely OCD and minorly hysterical as I shriek at them to STOP-IT-DON"T-TOUCH-ANYTHING-EVERYTHING-IS-CACA-ESPECIALLYTHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!. The people who are listening to me should know this: I really am minorly OCD and completely hysterical and my nerves are completely frayed and if one person even dares to look at me judgementally I may just SNAP.
Okay, so we get back to the gate safely, partially only because Jonathan is coralling Anna like a sheep dog. A sheep dog. That might not be a bad idea, maybe I could get one. My old neighbors had to get rid of their Australian shepherd because it was constantly herding their children and biting at their ankles. Hmmm....
Anyways, so I then have to board the kids by myself. As I am struggling to get on the plane, the flight attendant tells me, uh, I really am going to need your child to wear her shoes on the plane. We don't want her to hurt her princess feet, do we? Do we (this said in the tone people normally reserve for puppies)? I try to keep my expression neutral as I unload all of the myriad CRAP I am carrying on myself, saddlebag style, sort of like a camel. A horse would be too graceful. I try not to silently curse her under my breath as I cram Anna's little feet into her purple Crocs, which of course I wanted her to wear. What kind of mother do I look like here? Can't they tell I AM DOING THE BEST I CAN???? I had fought with her all weekend about her shoes, including at the wedding, where she walked down the aisle barefoot instead of in her perfect white patent leather Mary Jane Stride Rites with the cutest little anklet socks ever. The whole time I am trying to get them both on the plane, carseat installed, luggage stowed overhead (excuse me, pardon me, I am sorry (as I slam the booster seat into someone's head), no, Anna, JON, get out of there, those aren't our seats, that's first class) Jonathan is tearful and worried about his Daddy. He is so worried, how will Daddy be able to find us, Mama? What if he does not get here in time?
Dave comes running on the plane, carrying his boots (why wasn't the flight attendant worried about his princely feet?), with the keys (thank goodness, everyone we know and would ask to come get us from the airport is still in DC) and drenched in sweat. Poor guy. The people at Budget apparently had no idea or no way to locate which rental was ours. They sure make it look official, the way they scanned the barcode on the van when we brought it back. You would think this scanning of the barcode would represent some sort of, I don't know, tracking system? So Dave had to locate the van himself, and race back to the shuttle, back through security.
I get the kids new markers and activity books out. I buy stuff like this because of a false sense of hope I have that it will keep them occupied, which it does, but not $7 dollars worth of occupied. While we are taking off, Jonathan's marker slides out of his lap and under his seat. He cries, but we reassure him that we will find it when the plane lands. Dave gets super motion sick and is in terrible shape during the plane ride. Jonathan eats his pretzels and, drinks his Cran-Apple, says I am all done, returns his tray to the upright and locked position, and falls asleep. Anna stays up, and starts slapping her ears and crying when we begin our descent. She puts her head in my lap and covers her ear with my hand, and she falls asleep. We land, Dave starts to vomit, (I feel so bad for him!) and I sit with both sleeping kids while everyone else (including Dave) leaves the plane. I get us off the plane, and then Jonathan starts crying about his orange marker! His new orange magic marker! The pilot hears this, and says, what did he lose something? Pretty soon, both of the pilots, all 3 flight attendants and one of the ground crew, are all crawling around on the floor of the plane looking for this kid (who, come on, is pretty overindulged and really does not need this magic marker). The pilot starts to piece the puzzle together: Now wait, when did the marker fall? Was it when we were taking off, or landing? I reply, taking off. Well, then he says, it would have gone to the back of the plane. Princess Shoes Flight Attendant says, wait a minute, was it a red magic marker? To which the pilot replies, any marker anybody finds, let's run it by the kid, ok??? She says, oh, well I found a red magic marker earlier, and I threw it away. She goes and digs through all the trash, produces the red magic marker, which is indeed not even remotely orange. They give it to Jonathan, who decides that it must be magic, since it was orange, and now it is red.
Sigh.
PS We got home safe.