At LAX for our return flight to Seattle we were herded into a queue that took us to an escalator that led to the security screening on the second floor.
As Thomas boarded the escalator, he didn’t make the turn wide enough for his wheely bag to clear the end, and it got stuck. As he ascended the bag finally cleared, but he didn’t quite have himself situated.
Also, he wasn’t paying attention.
I’m not sure how it happened exactly, but he ended up rolling down the escalator steps like he’d just rolled down a grassy slope a few days before.
A quick-witted attendant stopped the escalator, I comforted him and kissed his scrapes, and we headed for the elevator.
Fast forward to our Seattle arrival.
On our way toward baggage claim, we obviously take the elevator this time. As Thomas is getting on the elevator, he turns around to say something to me as he continues to walk backwards.
And I swear I’m not making this up.
He says, “I’m sure glad we’re not taking the escalator this time because I got kinda scared.”
Then he tripped over Ruthie’s bag and flipped over backwards into the elevator.