D-Day Some people are notoriously early, some are anally punctual and me…well a safe description would be fashionably late….always! 1:30pm, casually making may way through the x-ray rigmarole when the X-ray operator asks if he can search my bag. I politely oblige and next thing you know I’m being accused of owning a firearm, go figure. After the third X-ray and round of interrogation he decides the only way to get me to admit to transiting munitions is to show me the screen cause he couldn’t identify the ominous munitions he was convinced he was seeing. Clearly Mr X-ray operator has never been lucky enough to own as nice a set of watercolour paint tubes (packaged in a very neat box) like I now own courtesy of my girls! Relieved that I wasn’t going to be
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