Writing to you from the lounge in Frankfurt.
The family is tired and that means one thing - cranky kids. Everyone is pretty beat, except me. Coffee truly is a nectar of the gods, as my father-in-law often says.
Aidan sat next to me on the plane and asked me several times, "What time is it?". When you're over the Atlantic on a three-legged journey, you have to pause before answering this question. I asked, "What time where?". He didn't really click with that. I used Germany time to respond. US plus 5.
So far, so good.
