Flying solo There´s no doubt that Zoe is Sari's little girl. There is nothing she looks forward to more than the sight of her Mama when she enters the playroom at the orphanage.

A year ago, on our first trip, a jealous Papa (notably me) suggested a brilliant experiment. Sari would be hiding in a nearby hallway so that Zoe would only see me, encouraging her to pay me some much-needed attention. Wrong. Zoe screamed and cried until Sari appeared and comforted her.

A similar experiment on our second trip a few weeks back also failed miserably. Things improved, but only to the extent that I was ignored, rather than villified.

This time around, it's not an experiment--it's for real. A previously-undiscovered technicality with Sari's passport found at check-in last night left us with a difficult decision--delay Zoe's pickup for the better part of a week, or send the parent with the good passport--me--to make the pickup.

After the unsuccesful but heroic efforts of the United check-in crew to find a loophole and with departure time closing in, we made the decision. We scrambled to repack luggage and get me on the plane. Sari is working out the passport issue in Washington and will hopefully be able to join us in Moscow on Thursday. A quick kiss goodbye, and off I went.

We used to laugh at some of the stories we heard. The best--a father making the pickup forced to wear a white lab coat the entire trip so the child would think he was a helpful doctor rather than adoptive parent.

All funny at the time, but not quite so amusing when you're flying across the Atlantic to take a child from the only comfort zone she knows--a child expecting her Mama.

I can only think of the Richard Benjamin character at the end of Westworld...sole survivor of the amusement park...head in hands, the Westworld ad plays in his head..."where nothing can go wrong...go wrong...go wrong..."

What awaits in Yekaterinburg? Will Sari make it to Moscow? Stay tuned...

With love from Frankfurt....  ¶ 5:39 AM