Bloody Hell. I don't think anyone dare come to terms with the fact that we'd come all the way from England to China to get a few ever-so-cheerful Airport staff looking at us in complete despair. Dad had lost his passport. Mum was on a rampage about how much she wanted to see the Great Wall of China. Josh was heartbroken that the 20 year old 36aa sized bimbo had finally walked off with her ipod and got on the plane. I decided to stare at the ground and pretend that the swirls were David Beckham's face.
"We cannot let you in, I'm afraid. Unless one of you four would go back and register this man a new passport. Have you searched the plane?"
"Gosh, we never thought of that."
"Pete!" Mum nudged Dad, trying hard to fight the annoyance inside her.
"I don't know what to say."
"Pfft, I think I've got lots to say to the git who stole my passport..."
"Pete! Just, ugh, lets find a place to calm ourselves."
I decided not to involve the fact that we were walking away from the apple ipod shop.