Science Fanboys and The Disney Family

A lot can be crammed into two-and-a-half weeks. We started with a three-hour on-board delay before an eight-hour flight, a sprint through customs, and landing in a snowstorm. Then there was the snowstorm. Then there were two family Christmases - one with an after-party at Starbucks - another snowstorm, a lunch with my cousins, and a six-hour drive to Pennsylvania. Then the 7th annual Winter Gathering of friends from Bucknell, the 5th annual Christmas puking disease (this year only Kris was affected), the Baker Family Christmas, the Carpenter Family New Year's, and a six-hour drive back to Ohio. Somewhere in there we had some magnificent visits, ate a lot of cookies, and slept just enough to be in the wrong time zone before coming back. Overall, as Kris and I drank our customary "Goodbye to Cleveland" beer at the Great Lakes Brewery at the airport, we were feeling pretty content.

Even though we were there with ample time (see earlier post concerning our vaguely obsessive punctual nature), Kris and I hurried to our gate to make sure we could both fill our water bottles and hit the bathroom before boarding. Kris headed off to the bathroom first and I sat with the bags, relieved that everything seemed to be going smoothly. As I waited a family of eight came and filled in the seats around me. The first thing I noticed was that they were all eating Subway sandwiches. The mom, the dad, the three grown daughters, two grown sons, and mildly obese uncle all sat down and started unwrapping their sandwiches in unison. It was surreal enough that I continued to stare, which gave me time to notice that every one of them was wearing some type of Disneyworld shirt. At this point, three of the family members seemed to find out that jalepeno peppers are hot and started waving their hands in front of their mouths and voicing alarm in rapid Quebecois (Canadian French). Two began removing the peppers; the daughter in front of me decided to tough it out. 

I was smiling when Kris returned and I did my best to fill him in using only mildly obvious whispers. I kept stealing glances at their matching shirts when one of the daughters caught my eye and I quickly looked down at her shoes. Which matched her sister's shoes. And her mother's. In fact, all of the women in the family were wearing matching sneakers and the men had their own darker version of the same pair. They were so new there wasn't even dirt on the bottoms. Three of the women were wearing the same watch. I pointed this out to Kris, and he added that all of the jeans were obviously new as well. It was as if the entire family had gone from Montreal to Disney naked or some tragic suitcase fire had led them to replace their wardrobes. Kris wanted to lean over and ask the mildly obese uncle if they had all just gone to Disney, but he decided against it. I kind of wish he had done it in the end. 

On the plane the Disney family was nowhere in sight, but three children under the age of four were in the rows next to, in front of, and behind us. Only the one next to us proved to be any problem. The wailing whine appeared to be her favorite means for conveying distress. Kris eventually fell asleep, but between the wailing child and the muddled time zones I wasn't getting any farther than trying to be still with my eyes closed. Eventually I got up to go to the bathroom. As I waited in the nook between the bathroom doors at the back of the plane, one of the flight attendants pulled up behind me with the drink cart. With some creative maneuvering we got him through. I smiled at him politely, acknowledging that I was waiting to use the bathroom in my socks, when he asked, "So, are you in the UN?"

I looked down at my socked feet and blue fleece and didn't feel that I particularly exuded "UN" but I just said no without trying to sound as confused as I felt. 

"Oh." he said, clearly surprised. He tilted his head and re-settled his hands on the drink cart. "Then why are you going to Geneva?"

"Because I live in Lausanne..." I responded. His look of confusion only deepened, so I continued. "We work at the Swiss Technical Institute."

"Oh," he said. "So you're a teacher." He looked relieved to have figured out who I was. 

"No," I continued. Things had not been going smoothly, so I tried to state things as clearly as I could. "My husband is a scientist and I work in publishing." 

"You're husband is a scientists!?!" he said, pushing the cart back towards me he was so excited. "I've never met a scientist before." 

"Well, there is one in row 28," I said. "He has red hair." 

At this the flight attendant smiled and backed away down the aisle with the drink cart. The bathrooms were still full, so I watched him go. When he got to row 28 he stopped, eyed Kris blandly watching  "Die Hard," smiled, gave me a thumbs up, and went on his way backing into the first class cabin clearly pleased. 

When I told Kris the story, he said, "Well, he still hasn't met a scientist... he just looked at one." I didn't really have a response for that.

After a few more hours, a train, two metros, and a walk we were back. And it's good to be home.  Happy New Year.