Only in Alaska is it common practice to go to the airport in the middle of the night.
In order to catch connecting flights in the Lower 48 or once finally arriving up from the Lower 48 - people are just at the airport in the wee-hours of the night here. Matter of fact, with the dozens of times we have been to the airport, only 3-4 times have been during the day... everything else is sometime after midnight.
The kids LOVE this. They love that they get to get up (in their PJs) when they should be sleeping & ride to the airport. This trip, more often than not, usually involves us dropping off or picking up Daddy from a TDY trip. Whether it is in the middle of the winter, and in a snowstorm no less, OR during the summer when the midnight sun is still beaming brightly throughout the city, the kids never tire of an airport run.
Two nights ago was no different - off to the airport we trekked & dropped Daddy off. Quiet giggles from Marilyn (like she was getting away with doing something), zoned-out-trying-to-stay-awake stares from Abbigail, and quiet singing from Thomas as he listens to the radio in the back seat are what my munchkins do on an airport run.
And just as quickly as I wake them and carry them to the car to leave, when we return from our airport run, they each go directly to their beds and collapse into their dream lands once again until the morning calls their name.