Forget you!

So my wife, consumed by the duties of raising twins, did what daughter-in-laws everywhere have only dreamed of doing; she stranded her mother-in-law yesterday. Let me preface by saying my wife and my mother have an amazingly good relationship, they really do. I know the stereotype is for two women to be at each other's throats for control of the same man but we're fortunate not to suffer that kind of relationship (an equally good relationship exists between me and my mother-in-law). So my mom called Gina up the other day to ask her for a ride to the airport; she's heading to one of her offices out of state. Gina, being the wonderful person that she is, happily agreed, despite my mom's concerns that Gina is so busy with the girls and it might be an imposition. Gina assured her that it was not a problem at all. My mom requested a pick up time of 12:30 and a drop off at the regional airport the next city over. This is where I failed. I didn't adequately warn Gina about my mother when I heard she was taking her. My mom is a very busy women. Her job title alone will describe exactly how much she does in the course of a day (CFO/VP of Operations/HR Director/IT/Facilities. ... and that's for 150+ employees covering two states in a very large company). Given her hectic day, the last thing my mom will do (even on vacations, it's kind of an ingrained mental thing) is sit around waiting for something. When I was a kid I used to go on walks with her when she'd get home from work at night. It was a way for her to unwind; she'd vent to me, and I'd listen attentively feeling like I was fulfilling the man of the house duties. But, if I'd stop to tie my shoe or something, she'd just keep walking and it was on me to run and catch up to her; it's just her personality. She doesn't stand still, even for an 8 year old. So, needless to say, she doesn't wait in airports either. ... ever - that's what I'm getting at. I've stood next to her, sweat beading down my forehead after running through a terminal carrying suitcases filled with rocks, as she asks the gate attendant to make the plane come back from the runway and pick us up. That's how you start a vacation? I forgot to give Gina this little detail. So when she says pick her up at 12:30, it's probably for a 1 o'clock flight - you need to get there at 12:00 and force her in to the car for her own good. Well, Gina was sitting the girls down to lunch after playing all morning when she looked at the clock and read 12:45. ... flight of the bumble bee commence. She's talking to me on the cell phone, frantically trying to get to my parents house, stressed beyond belief about forgetting my mom and I tell her 1) don't stress, she's not making that flight anyway and 2) she deserves this. Gina showed up to my mother on the doorstep, bags in hand; they literally flew to the airport and arrived at 1:15 (flight turned out to be at 1:20). I got a text from my mom at 1:35: "sitting down to a margarita and a book - next flight at 5:30 - forced vacation". Gina felt awful, I felt somewhat satisfied. Needless to say, when I offered to have them pick her up from the airport after her return flight, my mother texted "I'll walk". That was at 7:30pm. She just landed. Disgruntled daughter-in-laws everywhere gave a collective cheer.