Alternatively titled, “The New Mrs. Toucan Gets In Trouble with THE MAN.”
Normally, people don’t write about leaving for their honeymoon. It’s usually not too exciting, and there isn’t much of a story…but our story…
I should say, I’m super embarrassed about writing this, but I will because then it’s documented about what really happened (I’m sure future versions of this story told by Mr. Toucan will be MUCH more exaggerated).

The super excited Toucans looking forward to newly-wedded bliss and vacationing in Italy.
Things started out the “normal” way. We walked up to the counter, checked our bags, and walked over to the security checkpoint. We put our carry-on bags on the conveyor belt and walked through the metal detector without an issue.
But then, the screener stopped the conveyor belt and started carefully examining the screen. He quickly called others over to get a second opinion on what he was seeing. Another security guard came over, looked at me and said, “uh-oh, that’s YOUR bag.” I thought he was joking around.
But he wasn’t.
Mr. Toucan looked alarmed and quickly asked me, “What do you have in your bag?”
“Nothing,” I replied.
But it wasn’t “nothing.” The security guy pulled me and my bag aside and began rummaging through my stuff. I was so super confident that I wasn’t carrying anything to cause alarm…until he pulled out my keys.
Oh sh!t.
On the end of my cute little monkey-faced keys…

…a kubaton
I had brought a “weapon” to the airport. Since I take my grad courses in the evening, Mr. Toucan has always been worried about my safety. So, I took a self-defense course and carried my kubaton around for protection. I knew that it was illegal to fly with, and in the past usually remembered to take it off my keys before I flew. But this time, I was on my newly-married high. It just slipped my mind. And that’s what I told the security guards.
They still made me wait around. They took copies of my passport, driver’s license and plane ticket. They told me I might have to wait to talk to the state police. They threw out my kubaton. I was crapping my pants… er… dress.
I didn’t end up talking to the state police, but I was given a stern talking to by the security guard and was given this note, essentially telling me not to bring weapons to the airport.

Mrs. Toucan was sad and embarrassed.
I was told that “my file” was going to be reviewed and that I might get a fine in the mail in a few weeks (eep!). Additionally, while I was talking to the security guard, I overheard Mr. Toucan chatting with another security guard - he referred to me as his wife for the first time! Unfortunately, the conversation went like this:
Security guard: So, you guys going on vacation?
Mr. Toucan: Honeymoon, actually. We got married yesterday!
Security guard: Yesterday?! Wow, you really had no idea what you were getting yourself into, huh?!
Mr. Toucan: Haha, yeah. That’s my wife - the felon!
Oh yes. The first time Mr. Toucan called me his wife, the word felon followed closely behind.
Lessons learned:
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