Flying with kids: a note to the man in seat 11B

3 Nov

plane travel

When you become a parent, you soon discover a lot of things that will make you feel really rubbish at your job. Sometimes it is your own children who wield this power but more often than not it’s other adults. I am writing this post whilst being made to feel like the most awful parent of the most terrible children in the world. As it is so raw, you must forgive any lack of compassion on my part. I’m not in the mood for putting myself in someone else’s shoes (or flight socks in this case). Being quite cross does that to you.

I am on a plane. A shortish flight of 5 hours. It is 7pm and the kids have been up for nearly 12 hours. The period before take-off is one of the trickiest parts of a flight for anyone shepherding small people. It’s that tortuous time when you’ve yet to fire up the iPads and have just realised that by packing the wrong flavor of crisps all hell will be set loose. What you don’t need at a moment like this is for the man in the row in front of you to ask to move seats. Before you’ve even left the ground.

So here are a few words to you, man in seat 11B. The words that thankfully won’t leave my mouth now that I’m placing them safely on paper.*

You don’t have children, do you? I don’t say that in a looking-down-at-you kind of way. I’m just stating the bleeding obvious. If you did then you would understand that overtiredness plus being strapped into a seat don’t make for a quiet child. You’d understand that telling me to take my child “for a walk” is going to wind me up. If you were a parent, I also doubt you’d have such a ludicrous hairstyle – adults learn that with the responsibility of children they have to grow up a bit. However much we might try to resist morphing into a grown-up, there are some ‘styles’ that just don’t cut it on the school run. Sorry to get personal with you but I take your reaction to my child very personally. Touché.

My 3-year-old may have shouted when I dared to produce those wrong crisps. He may have kicked the back of your chair. You may have overheard me tell him that he shouldn’t do that, but considering where your head seems to be firmly stuck I’m surprised you can hear a thing. Let me tell you, my friend – if you didn’t have your seat reclining then the little legs behind wouldn’t have been able to reach you so easily.

I thought perhaps you’d asked to move because your seat was broken. (I kindly gave you the benefit of the doubt and was prepared to tolerate having your ridiculous hair-do and incessant nose-clearing in my lap for the whole journey.) This turned out not to be the case as your seat was fine when the cabin crew asked you to put it upright. That you put it straight back down again as the woman walked away is testimony to your arrogance. I wonder whether you would have done the same if it had been an adult rather than a child behind you. Not that I’m questioning your manhood. Perhaps you think you need your seat reclining because you are so generously endowed in that respect. But I’ll hold back from any further comment on what/where/who is the enormous c*ck.

So whilst you appear not to like my children, there are – I know you’ll find it hard to believe – quite a lot of things that I don’t like about you. I’m tempted to make the remaining four hours of your journey hellish. Fortunately for you the kids are now firmly plugged into their entertainment and no amount of bribery could entice them away to scream in your ear or perform the 1812 Overture with their feet on your seat (which is still reclining). I do hope though that one day you will be on a plane with your children and someone will ask to move away from you. You might feel rather small and remember that once upon a time you were a bit of an ar*e. For the moment I think I’ll just read a dinosaur book quite loudly – I really hope I don’t wake you.

* Postscript: After much huffing and head-turning on the part of the man in seat 11B (or Mr Nobby Nobhead as I now call him), my son accidentally jogged his chair and sparked a full-on row. I don’t say boo to a goose so it takes some provocation for me to shout at or argue with a stranger. Suffice to say, my suspicions were confirmed – the man in seat 11B is indeed an idiot. 

 

7 Responses to “Flying with kids: a note to the man in seat 11B”

  1. simonsometimessays November 3, 2014 at 5:51 pm #

    Go, C&P.
    It’s almost worth having young children again (almost) so that I could seek this twerp out and plague him with small children whom I will have trained specially in ninja-level passenger harassment.
    Failing that you should see if this chap has any sort of twitter social media presence so that you can follow and immediately unfollow him.

    • Crumbs & Pegs November 3, 2014 at 10:23 pm #

      I’m game for any petty revenge but a Twitter snub? That’s just going one step too far. 😉

  2. Suzanne December 12, 2014 at 5:04 pm #

    And this is why I absolutely love blogging – it gives you a chance to spout off all the stuff that is brewing yet you know that you cannot really say out loud. Only you did and I think you’re ace! That man had it coming to him for sure! Some people need to get a life. That is all.

    • Crumbs & Pegs January 1, 2015 at 10:23 pm #

      “Some people need to get a life.” I think you’ve summed it up perfectly!

  3. Lucy December 29, 2014 at 5:42 pm #

    Some people really are not that nice (putting it politely). Sounds like an idyllic flight of peace and calm. Hopefully the destination made up for the prat that you were sitting next too Lucy

    • Crumbs & Pegs January 1, 2015 at 10:22 pm #

      Thanks for commenting Lucy. Yep, you’ve just got to let these kind of people wash over you and not spoil the bigger picture!

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. 2015: the year of channeling Elsa | Crumbs & Pegs - January 2, 2015

    […] my hackles rise. This isn’t just about other people (and I’m thinking specifically of you here Man in Seat 11B). It’s about letting go of the self-inflicted time-wasting, procrastination and naval gazing that […]

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