This is NOT a Bomb

I love my crafty daughter and all the big and small crafty things that she does. Her friends are always noticing the “Masana” (for that is her beautiful name) touches to her clothes, her hair, her shoes, her knapsack, and even her homework (my sincere apologies to her teacher, Mrs. Borom, for the baroque approach she takes with writing her name!).
When we were at JFK airport a few weeks ago, Masana’s craftiness did not go unnoticed. In fact, it delayed the line for searching carry-on luggage by at least twenty minutes. (My sincere apologies to the man behind me who had to hold his smelly, wet shoes in his hands because the TSA security detail wouldn’t let him place anything on the conveyor belt; you deserved a big hug at that moment.) As our bags were going through the x-ray machine, one of the security guards slammed on the brakes. He called his two cohorts over and they poured over the screen. “What is that?” “I know what that is, but that?” “We better get Carl.”
Pretty soon Carl came over, and said in a hard whisper “Shake and bake, guys. Shake and bake!” Well, that got me nervous. I thought for sure they were going to rip my bag apart and take my fancy eyebrow tweezers that I bought at Sephora for $30. But instead Carl let my bag go through the machine and down the conveyor belt. He then grabbed Masana’s knapsack and asked me, “Is this yours, ma’am?”
Surprised, I said no, that it was my daughter’s, and then pointed to her lovely eight year old self. She smiled and Carl was caught off guard. He asked her to come over to a table so that they could go over the contents of her knapsack. Oh, you can bet your sweet bippy that he didn’t take her two steps without me within arms reach. I was ready to give good ole Carl the lecture of his life. What could my little girl have in her possession that could have seemed suspicious?
Well, it turned out that Masana had taken some pipe cleaners and wrapped it around her hard plastic headband. In an x-ray, it looked really, really suspicious.
Carl took out the headband, looked at Masana, and said, “Did you do this?” Masana smiled even brighter and nodded. “It’s really pretty,” he said and smiled back.
Okay, Carl. You’re a nice guy after all.