Not ready for take off

We went to the French alps at half-term, a trip we usually make by road so we can take lots of food as we always self-cater.

But this time round my husband decided it would be less stressful to fly.

Ha! First our baggage was over by 5kg and they wanted £50 for the excess.

No way Jose! In the middle of a heaving airport, while all and sundry stared at my big pants and off-white bras, we removed 5kg of clothes and stuffed them into our hand luggage.

Then came security: boots off, coats off, belts off, jewellery off, all while chivvying two kids who can take 30 minutes just to put on their school shoes.

Finally we were ready to walk through the screening machine, until my sixyear-old daughter triggered the alarm three times! She was patted down and escorted to a corner where it transpired her sparkly trainers were the problem.

Finally we got the all-clear and dashed to collect our cabin baggage. But only two of our four backpacks were there. The others had gone for inspection because liquids had been detected.

It turns out that my hubby forgot to put his 125ml aftershave into a clear plastic bag, and I’d overlooked my travelsize mouthwash. We finally made it through to duty free, without a moment left for shopping.

As I collapsed exhausted into my seat, the baby occupying the lap next door started screaming. And didn’t stop until passport control in Geneva.

Walking to the Alps would be easier.