ever goes unpunished.
An early quiet morning of packing and stitching followed by a Lyft ride to Kansas City Airport. Again, I am flying Southwest on a direct flight which is the only positive thing I can think about when dealing with this particular airport. Terminal B. Ok, been here, been confused here before. Dropping bags, getting through security was followed by waiting.
With a fairly early number in the Southwest line-up I easily found a seat partway back in the plane and parked my backpack in the overhead before dropping into a window seat. Turned on the audiobook and proceeded to ignore everyone and everything. And just before the gate closed, a mom and her four year old got on the plane. Their connecting flight had been late. All that was open on the plane was the random middle seat. Having faced those type of challenges when my kids were young, and my row still had the middle seat open, I offered to move. No way I am thinking a small child needs to be seated separately from their parent on a 3+ hour flight.
Now, I don’t think this is anything kind – self-protection perhaps. But I guess that all the other people who were studiously avoiding eye contact with the mom or with the cabin attendant didn’t think the same.
So there I was, moving toward the back of the plane into terror child territory. I picked the remaining seat in a child free row and spent the flight internally cursing the oblivious dad in the row in front of me. Why? He is sitting in the outside seat watching a movie on his iPad while the two blond demons ages ~ 3 & 4 are trying to kill each other. Crying baby in the row behind, another one in across the aisle. And me with my headphones in my backpack.
I survived. Barely.
Baggage claim to the monorail to BART to NB where George picked me up.
It is good to sleep in my own bed.