What a day

So Sunday was another planned to meltdown day.
Another 800 miles to be travelled, another saying goodbye to my son for a term.
Cardiff Airport.
A wonderfully sparse place, consisting of a Burger King, a WH Smith and a coffee shop.
Also home of the most anal staff possible.
Last week, I flew through this airport, on the same flights I had this time, and picked up my son with his hand luggage, and flew down.
Remarkably no problems.
This week on return the hand luggage had grown. 1 centimetre. ONE. This hand luggage that is official flight hand luggage for cabin crew no longer fits in the little metal frame one week on from when it did fit in the little metal frame.
The lovely male check-in assistant came out of his little protective space and tried to jam it in the little metal frame, and also decided that this 1cm was enough to charge me £12.50 to have it checked in.
Now remember I am flying on my own, and feeling very unsure about people anyway. I quickly agree to the extra money as its much easier than having to reason with an NT.

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