Confessions of a not so frequent flyer

girls weekend.

peace, quiet and copious amounts of prosecco.

The only thing standing in my way was my flight. Did I mention I hate flying? I totally do. Not because I’m afraid of flying, but because other people fly too. Do you know what happens when you cram a bunch of crabby humans onto a small plane? Kelly loses her shit, that’s what.

Julie and I arrive at Metro ready to go. I was running on 3 hours of sleep and hadn’t consumed nearly enough caffeine and I should also mention I was sporting a limp.

A limp? Let me explain.

I managed to get a case of plantar fasciitis the day prior. Totally bummed me out. I like flip flops, hate shoes and had to sport my old lady kicks just to get to my gate. Which I might add was located at the furthest point in the airport. I was limping, my calf was seizing and I was only half way there. I was feeling low. We arrive at B21 and I literally fall into my plastic chair to wait.

Julie and I play catch up, chatting about life, work and the like when we see these ‘kids’ running amok. We ignore them. They don’t belong to us. A red flag should have been the parents ignoring them too. Fast forward to boarding. These miniature assholes in training were not to be stopped. .

Julie says ‘Wonder which one of us will get stuck with them?’

I say ‘Why would you even jinx us like that!’

We board.

Figures.

Julie being two rows up to my right gets a single traveler with the Mom and Mom of asshole #1 behind her, and I get the hairy Dad and Dad to asshole #2 next to me

Too close for comfort.

I’ve ranted about kids before. I don’t hate kids. I just don’t like most I run into. Here’s why: The parents.

On our flight to Newark we were stuck with the parents who like to ‘talk it through’ and what that means is instead of slapping the ever loving shit out of your mouthy spawn you talk it to death instead. Totally fine if you want to parent like that. Not fine when I’m forced to listen to it.

Asshole #1 is Charlie

Asshole #2 is Jack

Why do I know their names? Because at last count the ‘Breeders’ spoke those names aloud approx. 84 times during our 1 hour 20 minute flight. Now, that tally could be off because I put my ears in to get some peace by way of death metal for about 30 minutes.

Julie was on the brink.

I was on the brink.

Where in the hell is the drink cart!

Charlie’s neck hurt  so he decided yelling would make it better and he didn’t want to play with stickers. He and his Mom had a 15 minute discussion about that. Charlie won. Mom caved and decided a game of marbles would suit. Note that during this discussion Charlie was kicking the back of Julie’s seat often.

Julie is a saint.

(yes, I said marbles. On an airplane)

Jack had a stomach ache and thought yelling and declaring he wanted to vomit would make him feel better. Dad spent 10 minutes explaining why he should ‘sit up’ and by doing so his stomach would feel better. Jack wasn’t buying it. So, he stayed hunched over yelling instead. Dad decided that a game was in order.

Please don’t let it be marbles. Please don’t let it be marbles.

I don’t have the energy to think of the name of the game, but it was the one where you try to match shapes to their perspective holes before the timer goes off and the board explodes thereby launching plastic shapes all over rows D & E on Delta flight 5085.

Now I’m glaring.

Mom brings marbles, Dad brings exploding shapes.

They both brought two asshole kids.

Why should Julie and I be made to suffer?

Throughout the flight to infinity and beyond, I found myself listening to these idiots and the spawn they produced that will one day have a voice and a right to vote. For every 2 minute long answer v. saying ‘No’ I thought of what I would have said in their place.

I decided I wouldn’t have said anything. A) Any child I produced wouldn’t act this way B) If my spawn did act this way that spawn would spend the flight crying not playing marbles and exploding shapes C) I’d have given them Benadryl, headphones and a pillow D) Where is the drink cart!?!

We’re readying for landing thank you, Jesus.

The assholes are restless and Julie and I are out for blood. Still, I watch to see what the ‘Breeders’ will do. Like a puppy waiting for a snausage the kids are bouncing and yelling and working everyone around them up minus the parents. I mean, this is their life. A life they CHOSE. They decided to talk it out v. discipline so this is the norm for them. Hell for us.

This is me. 42 minutes into the flight.

Mom and Dad produce 2 teddy bears and the kids lose their shit with excitement. Is there snausages inside those bears? Nope, instead the parents produce leashes.

Two of them.

A leash for each asshole.

They strap ’em in and they are ready to go.

Except, I refuse to be anywhere near them anymore. Unbuckled and slightly unhinged I cut them off, grab Julie and deplane. Julie immediately goes into a rant and I follow. I’m sweating and shaking and neither of us are in a good place.

I get it, it’s not the kids fault.

I totally understand that, however; that didn’t make it any easier to sit next to. Did I mention the human occupying the seat next to me was literally taking up two seats? It was a lose lose for me.

The flight home, same thing.

Julie and I took bets as to who would get what kid.

Julie won.

I lost.

I got ALL the kids.

As in, each asshole in training was stationed next to me, in front of me, and behind me.

Before we even took off I hear the Mom of four say: ‘If you kids don’t listen I will take away your Ipads’

The oldest boy (about 10 years old) clearly this not being his first rodeo says:

‘Go ahead, I want the new one anyway’

The other three (all girls) just laughed and ignored the Mom totally.

Not again…

I have friends who have multiple children and they are totally kick ass parents. They discipline when they need to, they talk it out when they need to. Bottom line, they are the adults and they put the smack down and I respect that. They know balance. I’d totally be fine on a plane with them. I mean cool people tend to produce cool kids. At least in my friends cases that’s true.

I get it, kids act up.

Hello, I am a Mother.

But it’s not okay to let it go so far in public that total strangers want to mollywhop your children. No one is going to call CPS on you if you wack your kid for being a total asshole. They cry, they learn, they get over it.

So in honor of the two flights from H-E-L-L Julie sends me this nugget and it’s an idea I am so on board with I’m thinking of joining a committee or writing my public officials or something…

I don’t fly like many of you do.

But when I do, I need it to be a stress free and quiet as possible. So, when I saw this I was like ‘Hell yes I’d upgrade to quiet!’

You can’t put a price on solitude. You just can’t.

Still looking for the drink cart.

~damngoodagent~