I know I led you on, teased you about our exciting return trip from Atlanta.
So, here it is, the story you have all been waiting for.
The captain has turned on the fasten seat belts sign.
And, people, it's gonna be a bumpy ride!
Actually, for us, it wasn't all that bumpy.
The flight down was much more challenging because we were dealing with exhaustion, which causes crankiness, which causes widespread frustration. And, eventually leads people to feeling like this.
Our return flight didn't depart ATL until 11am so #3 was able to sleep until a reasonable hour, enjoy his breakfast at a table, and play outside while we packed the car.
He was in good spirits at the airport, and we boarded the plane with a relatively happy baby.
The only issue was that 11am in not nap time, it's his play time. And dog gone it, he was gonna have himself a play.
Not the easiest thing to accomplish on a jet manufactured circa 1978 featuring the narrowest aisles you can imagine. We made due by letting him walk himself up the aisle, and back down, and back up, and back down, and... you get the picture, which I'm sure pissed off the man and woman flirting across the aisle, the overweight businessman who
But, none of our shenanigans could compare to the freak show performed by the 4 seemingly normal, older people sitting directly across from us.
Just as #3 got settled into his seat and was showing signs that a nap might be on the horizon, Old Broad sitting in the aisle seat (directly across and one seat up from us; I know I need a diagram) decided she was also in the mood for a cat nap, and attempted to recline her chair.
No. Biggy. Because, as previously mentioned, this jet was so old, and small, and cramped that the guy directly across from us (behind Old Broad) was a little on the tall side and was, therefore, forced to ride the entire flight with his knees firmly attached to the chair in front of him (Old Broad's chair).
His body provided resistance; she continued to push.
She pushed back; he pushed forward.
She turned around and said, through clenched teeth, "I would like to put my seat back."
He replied, "Sorry ma'am, but I've got no room back here."
She didn't care, and stated, "Well, that is not my problem. I'd like to put my seat back."
So she back (a little more determine this time); he pushed forward (a little more resistance).
This went on for, what seemed like forever but was probably only about a minute.
Then, Old Broad's obviously Frustrated Husband got involved.
"Hey, buddy, she wants to put her seat back. She's allowed to put her seat back!"
At this point, since he is virtually shouting, all passengers in the immediate area are alerted to begin silently watching the debacle take place. That would include one previously agitated one year old who also decided this show was much more important than anything else going down on the plane.
Old Broad persisted with her attempts to recline her chair. Tall Man continued to provided more than adequate resistance.
And then it happened.
Frustrated Husband took his magazine, all rolled up into a tubular shaped fighting machine, and whacked Tall Man a couple of times.
Screaming (mostly provided by Tall Man's Wife) ensued.
Laughing erupted (ok, that was me).
And the flight attendants finally showed up to provide an intervention.
The result: Old Broad got to put her chair back about a quarter of an inch, and I got to ride the rest of the trip in comfort, because while a baby is a pain to ride with on the plane, at least his behavior is understandable, expected. Not many people expect to see a group of 60 year old grown ups behave like they are on a preschool play yard.
Oh, and I got a lovely little edition to my daily blog:)
So, thank you Old Broad, Frustrated Husband, Tall Man, and Tall Man's Wife. Your performance was excellent. As thrilling as it was unexpected. As ridiculous as it was awesome.
You should be so proud.