I picked up my nieces from the airport within minutes of when their airplane landed, after cutting in the security line and dodging the resultant dirty looks, only to get to the security checkpoint and to my embarrassment discover that I had a screwdriver in my purse. I carry a screwdriver around sometimes because of my computer repair / consulting work. I never know when one might come in handy. But since I’m basically taking the summer off, I didn’t even realize it was in there. The look that the TSA guard gave me was so accusatory. Like a woman towing two little girls and with no carry-on bags, with a special pass to enter the secured Gate area in order to pick up un-accompanied minors is going to turn out to turn into a terrorist. She asked me if I wanted to take it back to my car. Uh, no, I said, just take it. I have to go pick up some kids.

On our way to the parking garage, F, my 11 year old niece, went on to tell me how she was really nervous at the airport because the threat alert level was Orange. “If it was Red, I’d be so outta here, ya know?” she said.

While I freely admit that I probably insulate myself from the outside world a little too much, I think my nieces are allowed to get immersed in it too much. I don’t think kids should know about things like Threat Alert levels. I think the Threat Alerts are a bunch of bullshit cooked up to keep us nervous, tense, worried. But I didn’t quite come right out and say so to F.

They have funny speech habits. F says “ya know” all the time. They call soda “pop”, and my 8 year old niece, J, says “Sweet!” constantly. It’s these funny little affectations that come with pop culture, I guess.