Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Dear Fellow Passengers on Yesterday Evening's Flight from Columbus to Dulles:
I was right there with those of you - and I recognize that this means most of you as it was a very small plane - who looked RIGHT AT SOPHIE in absolute horror when the flight crew announced that we would be STUCK ON THE TARMAC FOR A WHOLE HOUR. It was only supposed to be a one hour flight, who woulda guessed? Believe me, the prospect of confining an active 20-month-old to an 18" by 30" patch of floor space for two hours with only apple juice, airline pretzels and our ability to improvise as entertainment didn't exactly thrill us, either. We did the best we could.
My sincerest apologies to the folks who were subjected to a Cheezleton Family Singalong, with frequent tuneless returns to "I'M THE MAP, I'M THE MAP, I'M THE MAP, I'M THE MAAAAAP!" The kid loves Dora the Explorer. There's no screaming while we're happily singing Dora songs.
Unfortunately, there are only so many Dora songs and Sophie craves variety. Thanks for not snickering when I ran out of "traditional" kid songs and degenerated into the Meow Mix advertising jingle.
To the people in the rows behind us whom Sophie pointed at and classified "...man, man, lady, man...", deepest apologies to anyone she might have mislabeled. In toddler logic, there is no gray area with facial hair: if you have a mustache, then you must be a man. I'm not totally inclined to disagree with that, but I'm sorry all the same if my kid embarrassed you.
To the young guy across the aisle from us who was treated to Sophie's entire naked torso that she kept flashing like a college chick on a quest for the most beads at Mardi Gras, OH SO SORRY that you had to see that. Hey, we're sorry that we had to see it! She can be a strange kid at times, particularly when she's had about a gallon of apple juice in 30 minutes.
To the Belligerent Sports Fan who got the bug up his ass to tell the flight attendant to "Fuck off, bitch! Go fuck yourself!" when she asked that all carry-on luggage be stowed, THANKS A LOT, ASSHAT! You remember when we were taxi-ing out to the runway and the pilot suddenly stopped the plane and came back into the cabin to have a little "chat" with you about your piss-poor attitude? Yeah, I'm sure you do. Well, thanks to you we missed our original window of opportunity for takeoff and got stuck in the aforementioned ONE HOUR DELAY. I am SO NOT SORRY for any irritation or discomfort that you may have experienced due to my active, cranky 20-month-old who was only supposed to be aboard a plane for ONE hour, not two. May the Airline Gods frown upon you and always seat you next to pukers, panickers, intensely smelly people and hordes of angry toddlers with VERY FULL DIAPERS.
Oh, and I hope your team LOSES their next game, asshat!
Regards,
Mama Cheezleton
# posted by Amanda at 7:02 AM |
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