No photos please

When we flew to Atlanta, we flew out of a very small airport. I'm pretty sure it only has one gate. Just putting things into perspective here, folks.
So 5 of us go through security. I'm taking off the boys' jackets and shoes and pulling out their quart sized Ziploc baggies. We put up all our bags including the boys' new Cars rolling backpacks. As we're waiting on the other side, one of the Cars backpacks gets pulled and I give permission to have it checked. Out comes 2 1/2 pint bottled waters. I had no idea they were in there and figured out they were leftover from a trip to the park with Gran.
So the next thing I know, an agent asks who the backpack belongs to and I explain that it's either Matt's or Will's. He checks the tag, asks for Will and explains that he will have to undergo a pat-down. Really?
Now my biggest fear on the planet is a pat-down. Anyone who knows me, knows that I'm big into personal space. Even watching the new procedure on TV makes my palms sweat and my heart rate soar. But I'm a good mom. And I tried to explain that Mr. "I'm only 4 years-old" Will most certainly did not pack his own bag and I was responsible for it. The agent didn't buy it but proceeded to explain to me that they do a "modified" pat-down for minors. It's not as intrusive. Great.
So Will has his first pat-down and I can only standby and watch while trying very hard not to cry. The agent was wonderful and made it like a game for Will, so he didn't mind in the least. But the next thing I know, Matt is in tears. He's sobbing. Thinking he's scared for his brother, I scoop him up and ask him what's wrong. "But I want a pat-down tooooooooo!"
Wow. Totally did not expect that one.