Three tips for the TSA from a mum at Christmas

I have four kids. I believe in Santa. This Christmas, we saw yet another moron decide it was a good idea to try and blow up a plane. At Christmas. Christmas is my favourite time of the year and I’ll be blasted (no pun intended) if anyone’s going to take that away from me. So I’ve decided that I’ll let the TSA in on some key things they could be doing to really make a difference at Christmas.

This is important to me. My 15 year old flies to America from Sydney today, with smoke and mirrors security that I have been unable to prepare him for. The fear level is at orange. I think they’re going to pat him down. He might just enjoy that.

But I digress.

Instead of ramping up their already failing theatre of security, the TSA should just ask mums what the best things to do to keepare, given our Santa expertise and knowledge. So here are three little suggestions from the mum who still helps Santa and has never denied his existence, even to her 18-year-old adult daughter.

1. Warning people that they are being watched. My kids know Santa’s watching them. (Sidenote: Saying the Easter bunny watching you isn’t as effective. He doesn’t have as much power. Santa’s the big guy.) Maybe if the TSA ensured all their security staff were trained in really watching people and their behaviour we’d see some real changes.

2. Keep a list – and freaking well check it. There’s nothing worse than having a list of gifts and sorting them when wrapped to find that one kid has more gifts than the Brangelina clan, and another has 3 tiny boxes – and they all came from the Dollar Store. That happens when you make a list and ignore it. The massive failures of the TSA have been associated with administration stuff-ups. The terrorist watch lists are not shared adequately, efficiently or effectively. You can do cavity searches, but getting the terrorist watch list information shared properly might be a little easier. Just sayin’.

3. Hide stuff that you don’t want them to see. For years, I’ve hidden gifts from my kids in nothing more than a few striped raffia big bags with some sheets thrown over them in the formal dining room. (We don’t live there any more, so if my kids are reading this, sucked in.) It kept the gifts a secret because I knew the kids didn’t look in obvious places. While you TSA people are obviously inspecting our belts and shoes and don’t care who knows it, you’re missing the powdered explosive taped all over the body, and the stressed out guy walking around with it taped to his genitals. If I were a TSA officer I’d rather find out about that explosive from the observation of the sweaty guy than a standard genital frisk of every passenger. Unless they’re all Mark Harmon.

So there you go, TSA. Please ensure the safety of my kid and don’t harrass the 99% of people who really don’t need it. Merry Christmas.