Step away from the bag, Ma'am

My MIL has been deeemed a threat to national security. And it's all my fault!

I gave my MIL a bar of nice soap for Christmas. She packed it in her carry-on bag, where the TSA agent determined that it was a threatening substance and searched her bags. Now, my MIL is in her mid-seventies and has a boufant hair-do the likes of which I haven't seen since the 1960s. Hell, the hole in the ozone layer is probably solely due to the amount of hairspray my MIL uses on what is no longer hair, but more of a structural accessory. I find the whole thing hilarious because my MIL makes June Cleaver look like some sort of reactionary hippie.

At any rate, the TSA agent is trying to search the bag and my MIL is asking what he's looking for and offering to help and the agent is trying to get her to stop touching the bag and to find the offending items: the soap. Totally overlooked in the dangerous aresenal of weaponry carried by my MIL is the hair pick she uses to tease her hair. (Remember the hairpicks people used to carry in their back pockets to tease their 'fros in the 1970s? Yeah, Grandma has one.)

Moral of the story?

Ack! It's Soap on a Plane!