Rose is a very confident little girl, and is extremely excited about the trip (and the three flights, and therefore three Ginger Ales). She skips ahead pulling her own carry on case, which is really helpful because we have so much luggage and stuff. And can also be scary if we lose sight of her in crowds. She has no sense of danger, and wouldn't we all want to feel this way.
We came from the tarmac into the domestic terminal at Dulles and began looking above for signs to the international terminal. High above, at the top of a very tall escalator, with the other official airport indicators (Baggage, Ground Transportation) was the word we were looking for -- International. So we headed across the large hall toward the escalators, with Rose skipping ahead.
Halfway across the expanse I noticed a large red flashing arrow above, pointing to the left…."International Terminal"… "International Terminal"… I looked to the left and saw a guy manning a door, and a large clock counting down. "2:03".. "2.02".. "2.01"..
"What are you looking for?" he called out helpfully.
"International Terminal," I shouted back.
"Come! Come! We're getting ready to leave!"
I stopped Lax and Melissa, here is the transport to the International Terminal. And we shouted for the ones ahead. "Yesh! Yesh! Transport is here. Rose! Here!"
Too late. Rose had stepped on the tread, rising with the two story escalator with her bag, looking toward the top. "1.47"… "1.46"… "1.45"…
"What are you waiting for?" the guy shouted.
"My sister. My sister got on the escalator. So my father has to get her," Mellissa called back.
We are calling "Rose! Rose!" yet she glides up, obliviously, enjoying being in front. "1.20"… "1.19"… "1.18"…
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I'll post this comment after I have a chance to check your spelling. :-)