Am I too fat looking in these trousers?

Love the way small children play even at airports.  Sitting under dirty joined plastic chairs they chatter happily.  Delighted to be ordering each other around.  Captivated by this small-unexpected cave in the departure lounge.  They each have their own pink wheel-on cases covered in princesses and every now and then they get out from under the plastic seats and march up and down cases towed behind them as if a vital call has come.  

Their excitement is evident.  The call to board will come soon and they look eagerly around at others, “Is it time yet? Has the adventure begun?”  The rest of us aged ones yawn our boredom.  Or fret that our cases will not fit in Easy Jets little cage checking thing.  Clasping our precious passports and boarding cards firmly to our chests, we worry far too much to enjoy any of this.  Perhaps Easy Jet will fine us for too large a bag?  "They took my deoderant at security!"complained a sweaty man to my right, wiping his dripping forehead with a large grey hankechief.

His mate wonders if he’ll be able to finish his coffee before they start boarding?  Another woman asks her mate, am I too fat looking in these trousers?  

An elderly woman asks her pale faced and sickly husband if he thinks she will be chilly without a coat?  So many serious issues to keep on top of, and that is only the ones we’ve managed to remember.  Goodness knows what we’ve forgotten to pack, lock, defrost, or turn off!

The announcement to board is made and the two small girls have joined their parents in the long queue to the boarding gate.  They chatter in glee at things we no longer even see.  When you're young, laughter is ever present.  Like a happy background music.  A good game can dispel sombre thoughts in seconds.  A princess-pull on case is the perfect antidepressant for them.  They make funny faces at each other as they wheel the squeaky cases and roar with laughter.  For the rest of us, I wonder when did life become a thing of endurance instead of enjoyment?  At what age did it become too serious, this living business?