After a short flight from oh so cold Philly to perfectly comfortable Orlando, I wait in my seat on the plane for all of the passengers traveling with children under 5, those needing special assistance, anyone who is related by blood or marriage to a US Airways flight attendant, people under 5′4, men named Xavier, and women who own or would like to own a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes to gather their carry on bags and get the heck off of the plane, and then it’s my turn! I head off to the train that takes me to baggage claim, where I expect to meet someone who will drive me to the hotel. I know there are a couple of other moms coming in at the same time, so I figure we’ll all be riding a short bus (no offense, ladies, I mean the short DVC type buses) to Coronado Springs Resort. I head down the escalator and find Tom, the driver, holding my name in his hand. I walk over and introduce myself, and he immediately congratulates me for making it on the panel, and he walks over to where my luggage will eventually come down.
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