Telling time.

My brother and I picked up my parents from the airport last night. They are finally back from the motherland after a three-week vacation there. It was good to see them again, hear their stories, imagine what they saw while they were there (since they didn't take many pictures).

Though that was all great, the funny part was getting to the airport. You see, my father emailed the brother ahead of time with the detailed itinerary. He also checked the flight time on the website before we left for church that morning.

The flight was coming in at 10:45 AM which was late enough that we could go to church, skip out a little early and head to the airport.

So we did and when we got to the baggage claim, it was empty. We look at the arrival times screen and flight 479 arriving from NY wasn't on the list...my brother checks his browser once again, totally confused.
He asks someone at the information desk for help and so it turns out...

The flight was only coming in at 10:45 PM.

Wow. WOW. My brother cannot tell time.
It always priceless when my brother makes a mistake. That sounds mean but I speak from a big sister perspective.

In high school, my senior English teacher always said that the superior race would be those who could read an analog clock. Those who couldn't would eventually become extinct.

So long, bro.