Posts
Lord, please give me the strength not to strangle my child on the plane today. It's a long flight and I don't like dead things.
I actually don't like dead things. Freaks me out.
BUT I digress.
We decided to take Potato on an all-expenses paid (by us) vacation to visit his grandparents, who live a short 5 hour plane ride away. For first time parents, this seemed like an eternity of a time to be strapped in a metal box with a child that may or may not enjoy the experience and would also probably let the people in the surrounding seats also know his enjoyment or displeasure by farting near, puking on, or yelling at them.
I forgot, however, that this isn't the first time he has flown on a plane.
When he was four and a half months old, he flew 14 hours from Israel to New York in an incubator, flanked by a team of medical professionals. In economy. Right by the bathrooms.
I don't remember much about that flight, but, I know that he didn't cry all that much. He cried a bit on takeoff and a bit on landing, and a bit when the doctor would mess with him. But he was 5 lbs., had very damaged lungs, and was in an plastic box. So really, even if he was screaming with all of his might, I don't think he would have bothered anyone.
This time, I was SO worried that MY kid would be the one that people complained about. That the old lady across the aisle would point at me and call me a bad mother. Or worse, that people wouldn't say anything but instead would stare at me, tsssk, and pity my situation.
But no. My kid was an angel. He slept during takeoff. He slept during landing. He only puked on himself. He didn't scream, except for when he puked on himself and his clothes got cold. And the people complained about someone else's kid -- a little girl with lungs of steel, hair of a hooker, and parents with no fashion sense.
So now, I'm knocking on wood. Because in a few days we will have to go home. And a kid can't be that good twice, can he?
