“Why are working mothers so furious all the time?” I was asked recently. An answer, not entirely rational, springs to mind: “Personally, I could use a travel agent.” It’s a joke, sort of. School vacation is coming up. I’m swamped at work, and trip planning has become a time-consuming hell. A simple family vacation requires innumerable visits to destination websites; a suspicious scouring of rankings and reviews; and, at the heart-stopping final moment, a purchase on a site where prices and availability seem to change by the second. In the old days, it was simple. A woman would call a travel agent, and voilà! The trip would be booked. Now agents charge $35 a ticket. Don’t get me started on fees.