By Patricia Gallagher Newberry

The family goes on vacation to become a family again.

— Marni Jackson

I posted that observation, a page from a calendar, on the fridge last month to psyche myself for a trip to Florida.

It proved correct in some respects. We had some absolute Kodak moments, building sand castles, collecting shells, floating in the pool, playing Pictionary.

Regrettably, we failed to clue in the airline industry - and pretty well lost our happily-ever-after ending.

For the record, let me say this: We did not miss our flight home. Rather, flaws in the air travel industry - which apparently now requires about an hour of lead time per family member - impeded our journey, cost us our assigned seats and landed us in stand-by purgatory.

Early on, we remained stoic, even optimistic. I read an entire New York Times. My husband and kids played cards. We snacked. We watched the planes and people.

It was three hours later that we were plunged into a Chevy Chase Vacation plot, minus the jokes.

First came four seats for five people, sending me down the ramp with the kids and my husband in search of the next flight. Next came news that no seats were in the same row.

Then came the results of too many snacks and - oops! - too late a grab for the barf bag. (How many times should you thank strangers who help sop up your child's vomit? Thank you, thank you, thank you.)

The drama continued once we landed in Chicago. The connecting flight was canceled. Seats on another option were dicey. Tensions between Child No. 2 and Child No. 3 were erupting into warfare. Entering a 12th hour of pain and punishment, I was ready to hide in a corner of the terminal and let them duke it out in front of already gawking travelers.

Meanwhile, my husband called to say he was still on the ground in Florida, making even a midnight reunion uncertain.

That left me with two choices: Grit my teeth and push on, dragging hungry, tired, smelly, bickering children. Or take up my sister's offer to crash a party at her house and bunk there.

I thought it over for about 30 seconds and hailed a cab.

When my husband arrived a few hours later, he found the children playing happily with their cousins and his wife relaxing among family and friends.

The next day, we rented a car, retrieved our bags and made it home in time to spring the dog from the kennel. The airline gave us partial refunds for our troubles.

Maybe some families go on vacation to become families again. Ours is happy to have survived the journey and remained intact.

E-mail patti@marriedwchildren.com.