We should have had some hint when the plane arrived nearly twenty minutes late, but hey, it's snowing in Denver, and they had to de-ice. Yeah... okay... we knew it was snowing and with a high of 20 it was sticking pretty easily. But the flight hadn't been THAT late, and the flight itself was just fine, easy as anything.
We had to wait an extra half hour for Jet's car seat to appear by the ski racks everyone had told John, five or six times, it was SURE to be in. But that was okay, the snow was flying when we went out to the bus to the long-term parking, and that was okay, too, but then the driver stopped stopping at all the stops, and John had to go up to tell her where to stop. It was falling fast and furious when we got out and the car was still curbed by the ice that was there when we'd left.
We got into the car, no problem, but starting was a real problem. Diesel fuel doesn't like the cold. It has anti-gelling properties, but in the engine block, when it gets to sub-zero temperatures at night, the block doesn't let go of the cold easily. The glow plugs weren't all firing, either, when we first tried to get it to start, and after a dozen or so tries at starts, the big, bulking battery, which had also been in the bitter cold, finally gave up. We called the lot's help folks, and they dispatched a truck with a young girl with a "jump start pack" that consisted of a special battery, and when it wasn't hooked up completely at first, John was NOT impressed. But when the contacts were solidly made, the thing really worked, and finally, the Passat started up and started purring.
It had made Jet a bit anxious, that wait in the cold and wondering if it would start. He'd fallen asleep on me on the bus, but all that woke him up and he was awake for the long ride home. We talked a a bit about the fact that I was leaving in the morning again. Then, the traffic began to pick up as it was right a bit before 5. And when we hit the Longmont area the traffic was all snarled because of the snow.
Then the fear of any parent of a six-year-old really took grip when Jet suddenly said, "I have to go use the potty, Dad."
We talked with him a bit and he thought he could last to home, but the traffic was really, really slow, but Dad figured out a way to get through and then we were home, in a very cold house, and with LOTS of Stuff to unpack, get clean, and for me to pack up and get ready. Meep.
We dinnered at Noodles and Company and I went on-line and figured out that my fear of an 8am flight was imaginary and that my flight was at a very considered and considerate 11 am. Whew. I can probably get the boys to drop me off at the bus stop in Boulder and they'll be back in plenty of time for Jet to get to school.
I'll enjoy my bed for the night. Whew.