Following on from Dylan's recent trip to Korea... This is when you realise the photos and daily live streams bear no relevance to what actually took place. And that you as a mother would have been teetering between taking the next fright out or ordering child home - if you'd known even a quarter of what really transpired?

I added a P.S to the previous piece. Some messages from Dylan which... whilst funny on the surface, carried a dangerous message: I could have lost my child, said child consuming the equivalent of 10 standard drinks in the form of the local 80% proof liquor... in under a minute.

I won't focus on that here, lesson learned. I will however describe the homecoming. It needs sharing, some comic relief in what otherwise could have been a very different situation.

"Arriving Melb 11.30am. Qantas domestic."

"See you then."

"You got sign?"

"I got sign."

Mum thought it a good idea she come along; despite my telling her I was also bringing the same two guys back with us, plus three sets of overstuffed luggage. Dad in hospital and not doing well, we passed by there first. Of course, me and my couldn't careless attitude to mobile phones... I left it behind to charge - or rather forgot it as I usually do?

We arrived at the airport at 11.00am. Not an issue under normal circumstances but of course I didn't factor in a much slower-paced and half-blind mother, so it was more an amble rather than my usual fast and furious pace.

Came the moment we had to go through the security screening to access the arrivals gates. There I was with the sign. It drew attention. Lots of attention. Then I passed through the scanner. Bloody alarm went off. I knew immediately it was the belt with the metal buckle.

"It's your belt!" the guy said, like he'd solved some centuries-old equation. "Take it off please."

"If I remove the belt my jeans are likely to slide off?"

"Still need you to remove it."

"But..."

The belt was holding my jeans up? I'd found an old pair of D&G jeans; since mum had been in my room whilst I'd been at the hospital for a long stretch and venturing into my walk in-closet had decided stuffing everything on the floor into large bags was a good idea. I had no clue what each of the bags contained, nor where any of the dozen pairs of jeans I owned could be. This old pair - let's just say I've lost some few kilos since I last wore them?

"Maybe she's not wearing any underwear?" This from one of the other guards meandering over to check out the sign and joining in.

"Ummm..." This from me since I wasn't?

"Ohhh..." This from the now four security guards as they waited.

I removed the belt and hung on to the jeans with one hand. Passed through the scanner and after mumbling a few "Not impressed" and "You guys suck", put the belt back on. This wasted precious minutes.

Hurrying mum along, we reached the arrivals gates. Of course, the board did not show any incoming flights from Sydney at 11.30am? Without a mobile phone and not remembering anyone's number I was... at the mercy of mum who launched a tirade about my constant forgetfulness and "she'll be right mate" attitude, very much a part of Australian culture -  as I countered?

There was a flight meant to arrive at 11.35 but was delayed, now arriving 12.10 at gate 2. Had to be it I figured. We bought a coffeeand then after browsing through some souvenirs plonked ourselves in the departure/arrivals lounge outside gate 2. The plane landed. I held the sign up as groups and individuals appeared through the doors. I waited. I waited, the sign drooping gradually as puzzled and amused faces passed by. Then I saw the flight attendant give the go-ahead for the cleaners to enter the plane. What the fuck?

"Ummm... My son was supposed to be on this flight! Can you check?"

"I'm sorry we can't give out personal information... Privacy issues, you understand."

"Blah blah blah" is all I heard.

"Could he have missed the flight?"

More of the same "blah blah blah" but then she said "I do know a group missed their connecting flight?"

Ohhh...Ten different scenarios played out in my head. All resulting in the same "I am screwed" conclusion.

"You should go to the courtesy desk; they may have more information there?"

"They'll tell me?"

"You could try..." She didn't sound confident.

I raced to the desk, leaving mum standing guard.

Repeated the spiel. Got even more "blah blah blah" in a sterner voice since I had to admit I carried no mobile, nor could I contact anyone. I implored.

"Can you please, please just tell me if he was supposed to be on that flight or if he's on the next one?"

"Blah blah blah."

I was turning away when I heard something peculiar:

"If I was you, I'd head to gate 8. Quickly."

"You mean-"

"Quickly."

Raced back to mum and was explaining we had to hurry when I spotted some familiar faces. The two driving back with us!

"Oi! Where's my bloody kid?" Yep, exact words.

"He was ahead of us. You didn't see him?"

"No I was asking-"

Mum intervened. "Dylan passed us while you were talking to the lady."

"You didn't stop him or call out?"

"I didn't think they'd arrived yet. Plus I can't see well enough! What if it wasn't him?"

"He'll be at baggage collection, don't worry," one of the two now tagging along as I hurried mum back to the escalators said. Wrooooong thing to say.  

"Where the fuck were the two of you while my kid decorated his room with vomit?"

"We looked in on him, we did!"

"Until 4.00am," the other one added. "He was asleep!"

There was fear in their eyes... also the prospect of losing their ride back home? Eleven days prior they'd promised to look out for him.

"Hmmm... still not happy."

"There he is! Over there!" They'd both kept silent until we reached the baggage carousel. I felt their relief.

Dylan and I are not 'huggers' ordinarily. I hugged that kid and he hung on to me for a full minute. I got he missed me too. I also got how frightened he'd been... following his stupidity the night before.

Then he spotted the sign I'd given mum to hold. As did the rest. A flurry of high fives launched at me. I must have passed some cool mum test?

"Dude!" Dylan said, grabbing it and posing for a photo.

Dude! The kid spoke like he'd discovered a new word and couldn't get enough of it. I was no longer mum; I was "Dude!"

For the first time in our recorded history, I got us back to where the car was parked without the long search. An extra body meant the three dudes were together in the back, hugging backpacks and warning me about braking suddenly - since at least one overstuffed suitcase could come to rest across the back of my head. I heeded the advice.

The drive home. A time when tired and still somewhat hung over brains lose most filters. Navigation on, three voices expunged on the merits of the trip. Here are some highlights of said trip and ensuing hours before Dylan finally collapsed and slept:

·       "hangry" lasted a day, not the ten days assumed going by their pathetic and pleading live stream bitching about not having eaten for 10 hours.They ate well and they ate a lot. A lot. Dylan tried vegetables. Dylan tried foods he hadn't savoured since toddlerhood.

·       Hot Springs there are not like Hot Springs here. You get naked. You get to know your travel mates a lot more intimately. You are also a highlight for the locals.

·       Thrift shop shoes cause "Cankles dude! I had cankles!"

·       One drunken night of Karaoke does not mean alcohol was not consumed at lunch every day and dinner every night. "You can get drunk on $5.00 dude!"

·       'Soju' the local brew causes you to fall asleep, wake a few hours later and assume everything in the apartment is a toilet bowl. Everything. Then it puts you back to sleep so you can rise to a nice surprise. Expect a cleaning bill in the mail. Do not trust "I was cleaning for seven hours dude!"

·       Do not rush and put vape pen in mouth and "Try it out dude..." before the sentence is finished and you have cleaned it. "...everyone else did!"

·       Accept swearing as the new norm. Also bowing and the equivalent of "Thank you" in Korean - this at the local bakery? "They had no bread there dude!"

·       Face the fact your child is gone from you. Face it! "We are going to continue Korean classes dude. Going back next year, on our own, right dudes?"

·       Don't ask why there weren't many pictures posted online. There are 3,000 waiting for you, each of which will be fully explained with any accompanying side stories.

·       Art is subjective. Trust me.

·       Do not speak about your impending trip. "Dude, you're gonna be there during the election? I got a passport now, can I come?"

·       Never again imagine your child is thinking of you when shopping overseas. "Where's my phone?" Where's grandpa's shaver?" Where are my funky tee-shirts?" "Where's-"... "The night markets were closed dude, they open at 2.00am. Wanna paper pen?"

·        Attending  formal induction at a prestigious Innovation Centre does not mean child will not act as child acts at the supermarket?

·       Assume child is no longer child. "I joined Tinder dude, wanna see?"

He survived. We both survived. I only said "Fuck!" once at the airport, twice on the drive home and twice at home. That was some feat. Dude.