Breakfast in Brussels

This European keyboard has me typing even slower than I normally do, and I cannot find the period, so for a period I will use this.

Oh wait, I just found it.

So, the flight over was uneventful. My good father drove me to the airport. On the way we stopped at the ho,e of a friend who prepared a bag of tricks for the journey with the little girl; She kindly filled a little pink backpack with changes of clothing, wet wipes; crayons and paper, and lots of stuff to make the trip more pleasant for both parties. The thing is that the backpack does not fit within my own bag, so I have to trapse around Europe carrying a little girly pink bag.

I dozed off on the plane only to be nudged awake by the European smelling man in front of me. I was confused as to why he woke me. He said in his heavily accented English that I had been snoring loud enough for the entire plane to hear. In a way I was proud. In any case, what did he want me to do about it? He told me that I should stay awake so as not to disturb others. I thought about this, decided it was not in ,y best interest, informed him that if he woke me again I would punch him in the back of the head every few minutes until we landed. For good measure, every hour or so, or whenever I noted him nodding off, I would knee the back of his chair just enough to let him know not to disturb my slumber.

I wonder if I really do snore loudly?

I need to meet a friend for a Belgian beer breakfast now.