I had been seated on the plane for a while, waiting for the remaining passengers to board. A few empty seats were scattered nearby, and I was glad because there was mostly business-men who had ipods already plugged into their ears and their laptops already perched on their discount suits. I knew none of them would attempt conversation, and I was quite relieved as I was exhausted and only interested in getting home. Then a family boarded the plane, the mother carrying a whimpering baby in one hand, and an oversized diaper bad was slung over her other shoulder walked with intent and assurance, trying to deflect the groans and whisperings people were throwing at her. The father followed close behind her, also holding a diaper bag and a young toddler who was kicking and wriggling in his arms, while prodding a young child-least five years old- along with his knee, down the isle. They approached the section of the plane I was in and my heart began to beat faster. I knew young children would pose a problem to my plan to sleep the whole flight, but I wasn’t one to get irritated with parents about their kids, unless they caused too much trouble. So I leaned back in my seat and smiled at the sheepish looking mother as she scooted into a row, trying to calm the whining baby. The father then paused in the isle, smiled at everyone seated in the sections near him, and announced: “Welcome to hell!” And took his seat. I saw as he sat down that he was grinning ear to ear.
Honest dad, classy fellow.