When Dan was home, I gave him a postal priority box packed tight with treasures marked "suitcase." I told him, "It's mostly honey."
He forgot and put it in his carry on. He called later to say he's now known at TSA as the honey whisperer. They couldn't believe that the box was full of jar after jar of honey (from Paris' La Maison du Miel and the Paris Opera House, from the Fairmont Empress Hotel in Victoria B.C. and from Beekman 1802).
When they got to the beautiful jar of lavender buds mixed in white sugar, they relented and told him he could check it. Do you remember my Honey Bar?
Sometimes it's hard to move delight.