Duffle Bag Douche Bag

When we travel, Jo usually packs a huge duffle bag with her and the kids' stuff. I get to take my own luggage. At airports I pull the duffle bag which has rollers. Evan jumps on to it and sits astride deftly and with the agility of a jockey on a racehorse. Here is a photo at Tahiti airport of the same duffle bag back from 2012. Imagine it minus Vivian and the bag lifted up at about a 50 degree angle.

When we landed in Austin I left Jo and the kids to deal with luggage and went to find the car I had parked 11 days ago. Jo had to extract three heavy pieces of luggage from a very crowded luggage carousel surrounded by rude fellow travelers. She was in no mood for Evan to jump on the duffle bag. Apparently he didn't listen well. Because when I arrived with the car I was delivered an earful. I felt I needed to deal firmly with the situation.

Apparently before I arrived Jo had categorically told Evan that he couldn't jump on the duffle bag. He had enquired if he could when Daddy had it.

Me "Evan - you can't jump on the bag when Mommy or I tell you that you can't"
Evan "Okay. But when you tell me it's okay can I ride on the bag?"
Me "Yes. But ONLY when I tell you it's okay"

Ten seconds of silence. I mentally declare Mission Accomplished.

Evan "What about when you don't say anything? Can I ride on the bag then?"

If this kid ever gets into politics he's going to make to make today's douche bags look like saints.