The Taxi Queue

In England we do not wait n line, we QUEUE. (Well, actually many of the people don't bother to queue or wait, they just push ahead.) But one is supposed to queue when waiting to pick up your child from school, buying groceries and getting on the bus. The children queue, the buses queue and the taxis queue. This is all well and good as long as I am not IN the taxi queue, which was exactly where I found myself last night at Heathrow Airport.
Ger, Abby and I left to pick up Kyle at the airport on his return from the Ukraine. I had googled the airport lay out, directions and parking information. WE made a stop at Mac Donalds in Slough to fortify ourselves for this adventure. This is where the trouble began. Ger asked Abby what she wanted for dinner, Abby replied that she would decide after she went to the bathroom. Steam seeped from Ger's ears and his face turned an odd sort of purple. Sensing an imminent eruption I whisked Abby off to the bathroom where she innocently asked."Is Grandpa grumpy again?" I explained that he was just hungry so she should do whatever and we would get back out to dinner.
The mood has now been set and it just went down hill from there. WE had K&B's "GPS" but Ger couldn't figure out how to use it. I had to go back to Windsor to find the road to the airport and there was a ton of traffic. The trip TO the airport was uneventful and we still had an hour before Kyle would be through customs. (Ger rushed us out of the house 2 hours early for a 15 minute drive.) We arrive at Heathrow which is like every other HUGE airport I have ever been in. It is a maze of roads chris crossing with exits shooting off in every direction. Add to this the LEFT HANDED driving and it was a lot to manage. Abby was excellent in the back seat. She KNEW to keep quiet. I was doing well following the signs for Terminal 1 parking when I suddenly found myself in a corral. A narrow, one lane road with fences on both sides preventing me from going anywhere but forward. I WAS IN THE TAXI LINE! er,... queue ! Taxis in front of me, and just as I decided to back up and out, taxis in back of me. I thought this was a riot . . . Ger found nothing humorous in it. He fussed and fumed, muttered and mumbled till a little voice from the back seat said, "I'm bored back here". That did it for me and the giggles erupted which only made Ger angrier. There was nothing to do but wait for the queue to slowly move forward as each taxi filled and moved out. I had Ger take Abby and go into the airport to wait at arrivals (something that he would NEVER have done if Abby wasn't with us but since we wanted her there to see Dad as soon as he came through customs) Ger reluctantly got out and took Abby inside. I continued to wait another 10 minutes or so, got near the front of the queue and squeezed my way past the last 4 laughing cabby's.
Bottom line, Kyle arrived about 15 minutes after I got into the airport and all was well for the rest of the night. When I asked Ger if he knew we were going into the taxi line he said "Yes" but didn't think to mention it to me.
Abby is delighted to have her daddy home. The two have snuggled through the night and now Kyle is at work and Abby is in school. Bridget remains in the Ukraine watching over Roman and Kyle will return to be with her on Tuesday of next week. Hopefully today with be queue free and Ger will calm down.