Can You Feel It? (It’s Handcuffs)

My brother managed to pick up work at a racehorse training farm in New Zealand through a mate. This is his first visit back home, so Mum, Dad, and I all jump in Dad’s car and head over to the international airport to pick him up.

Mum and I are waiting inside the terminal while Dad does laps outside since parking fees are absolutely insane here if you’re not booking the car park for multiple days.

This is during the G20 Leaders’ Summit, so international airports are on higher alert than usual across the globe due to increased risk of terrorism threats. Even in Australia, where terrorism threats aren’t exactly the norm, the major airports aren’t messing around with their security protocols. We pass through the security checkpoints and go through the expected rigmarole of tests and questions without issue, find some seats, and settle in to wait for my brother’s flight to land.

Mum has found a new song she is into and starts bopping in her seat and humming the tune quietly, despite the song not actually playing from any of the speakers. I give her a strange side-eye, recognising the song as “Geronimo” by Sheppard. You know the one. “So say geronimo! Say geronimo! Say geronimo!” (You’re welcome.)

Then, she gets to the part where the chorus repeats, “Bombs away,” and she is no longer humming.

I’m now openly ogling her with a “WTF are you doing?!” look plastered across my face just as a security guard approaches doing his rounds. As he comes into hearing range, Mum switches over to, “Say geronimo!” and sings more softly. She watches the security guard as he passes, singing softly all the while, and once he’s past and out of range again, she picks up the volume and switches back to “bomb’s away”.

Me: “Mum! What are you doing?! You’re going to get us arrested!”

Mum: “[My Name], you do realise they probably have microphones all over the place, right? It’s the international airport, and the G20 is on; if it was an issue, we would already be detained.”

I open and close my mouth like a fish out of water for a few moments, trying to grasp the absurdity of this statement.

Me: “You realise that doesn’t make it any better, right?! If anything, it’s even more inappropriate!”

Mum: “Nah, I’m sure they know the difference between a serious discussion about an act of terrorism and a joke. Besides, it’s a good song.”

She then started singing again.

We didn’t get detained, my brother arrived on time, and we were able to leave without even so much as a suspicious glance from security staff. But seriously, time and place, Mum!