Flying. Never uneventful. Doesn’t matter how much I pray before hand, it never fails to be a ball-buster. Here I am, on my way to Texas. We always fly Southwest. The downfall to that, is we always have 252 stops on the way to Texas. Our first stop is Baltimore. We have to get off because we have a two hour layover. I get the Little Man something to eat, we walk around a little, and then go find our gate. We sit in lovely little seats at our gate waiting for boarding. On the other side of our seats was a woman with her two young children. I didn’t realize it when I sat down, otherwise I would have immediately moved. Once I was comfortable with a book, the tantrum set in. The older of the two kids, was screaming something at the mother. Little Man turned to me and said, “Hope we aren’t stuck by them on the plane.” I silently agreed, thankful that with Southwest you pick your own seats. Finally it was time to board. Our seats were B3 and B4. I knew that all the families with children board after all the A’s are called. Excellent, I thought. That is really safer because the obnoxious families with small children have picked their seats before I have to pick mine aka I don’t have to sit near them if I don’t want to. This makes me sound like a child hater. I’m not. Okay, under the age of 10 I have a tough time. Exception: my own niece and nephews, and friends’ kids.
So Little Man and I head for our spots in line...as you know, I am a nazi flyer and will make sure that everyone near me in line is lined up appropriately according to their numbers. There will be no B5 or B6 in front of me. I earned my B3 and B4, so get the hell back. As we line up I notice all the families standing off to the side waiting to pre-board. More than I have ever seen on a flight before. Oh well. I am confident all the front seats are taken and they will all be forced to sit in the back of the plane...as it should be. I know what your thinking...where is her heart?? My heart and patience was lost years ago when it comes to tiny terrorists. There is a reason my teaching certification is for 4th-8th grade. These are the ages I like. Elementary school? Not. For. Me.
So there we stand, watching all the families get on. I notice the woman sitting near us before wasn’t standing with all the other families with small children. Little Man, definitely my child, also notices and points out that she was still sitting in the seats. I was silently relieved thinking she was probably on another flight all together. We get on the plane and we take the first two seats together. I knew it was going to be a full flight, and I was willing to sacrifice my isle seat for the peace and quiet of being as far away from the small children as possible.
After everyone boards, I notice two of the flight attendants talking about another passenger that needs to board. They decide they are going to have to ask a random passenger to switch seats. One heads to the back of the plane, just as a woman in the next isle and one row back over, offers up her seat. As she moves, I look towards the cockpit to see who this passenger is that is causing the ruckus of seat movement. There she stands. Holding one child, with the other at her side. Where does she sit? One row back, and one row over. Where does the temper tantrum sit? Directly behind little man between two strangers. Why they put a child that small that far away from his mother I will never understand. So here he is, between a 57 year old man and a 46 year old woman. How does she know their ages, you ask? Because the little shit asked them 42 times. I can also tell you that the 57 year old man had a birthday on July 20, and the 46 year old has a birthday coming up in October. The kid? He is five. His birthday is November 13th. He lives in Dallas. He has a dog and a little sister. His room is green, and his sister’s room is red. He is in preschool and his teacher is Ms. Kim. Shoot. Me. Now. Why the hell didn’t I bring ear phones, or plugs, or a knife to cut off my ears?!? I am furious that because she chose not to pre-board, that everyone else has to be inconvenienced. What the hell is wrong with people? Finally after 549 questions, the old man turns and says, “Okay, I am going to read now.” The five year old turns to the woman who at this point must have closed her eyes because this is what I hear: “Are you sleeping? Hello? Hello?”
What did I do? Close my eyes and pray for it all to go away. Then when we stopped again, Little Man and I moved to the second row back...far enough away that I didn’t have to hear the five year old ANY-MORE.
No comments:
Post a Comment