Despite getting worked up about airport security, both legs of my trip were using old school scanners. The new scanners were in place, but dormant in Ft. Lauderdale. In fact, a TSA agent told us that when they do use them they don't put small kids in them--not because of safety, but because "kids can't keep still for 10 seconds."
As result, WonderWife™ and I were left with a lot of displaced anger. We had whipped up a nice frothy head of agitation in the days leading to our trip. I decided to take mine out on Florida drivers, whom I've come to realize over the years are just about the most inconsiderate in the country. I'm not sure how WW™ ultimately coped. Maybe that's why she was "accidentally" kicking me in the middle of the night.
So at the end of it all, we survived a grand total of 11 hours in airplanes, 4 hours in terminals, 7 hours in the car, two great-grandparents, 2 grandparents, 2 siblings, 2 spouses and 4 kids under 5.
I still contend that the TSA thing is a big issue that will continue to be hashed out both publicly and privately, but for now I've got to shake off the tryptophan coma and let go of my dreams of my mom's candied sweet potatoes and get back to my normal life.