Three Feet From a Three Year-Old

At most points in time, the skies are usually packed with suits and retirees. But this week was a little different…

Monday morning, we took a full flight to Houston with a brief touchdown in San Antonio along the way. There were only 9 of us passenger types that were continuing on from San Antonio to Houston. We obediently stayed seated so Mary could do her through-count, and then we were permitted to move about the cabin. As a semi-seasoned traveler, I made my way towards the front of the aircraft to gain a better seat. Settled in on the window of aisle 3, they came.

Instinctively responding to the repetitive training, I reached to secure my oxygen mask before helping the 22 elementary school kids who had just begun scurrying onto our flight.

I hope little Johnny [who am I kidding – odds of one of those kids being named Johnny in this day in age are 3400:1] didn’t take it personally when we made eye contact and the only word I could muster was “really?”

Turns out J-Dog and his friends were on a field trip. That field trip was to the San Antonio airport and not Houston. Crisis averted. The children took their picture, put in their earplugs, and headed out onto the tarmac, leaving me to wish that I was the one going out on the tarmac.

We’re in the air on the way back to Nashville now [Yes, folks, this is another highly-anticipated live-but-delayed-due-to-internet-access post].

One sidenote before we get to the second of my two subpar storylines...

Sidenote: If you’re not familiar, Southwest is to other all other airlines as the Harlem Globetrotters are to the Washington Generals. This is mostly due to the fact that their employees act like people. Sometimes sarcastic people. And I LUV them for it. Today, just after family boarding, we begin boarding “B 1 through 30.” As B7, I am ready to hand the guy my boarding pass when this older couple comes running [relative term] up flashing their A27 and A28. “We’re A’s. We tried as hard as we could, but we just couldn’t get here fast enough.” I smile and wait. The Southwest guy takes the lady’s boarding pass and asks, “Why are you breathing so fast? Is somebody chasing you?” He then proceeds to step to the side and look for her pursuer.

I get on the plane, lock down my aisle seat on a row whose window seat is occupied. Immediately, I pretend to sleep so as not to be disturbed by someone looking to lurk on the vacant middle seat. After the aisle traffic has died down, I wake up. Soon, I find myself repeating steps 1 and 2 as we are waiting on some connecting passengers. During the waiting process, I am un-formally introduced to the child sitting one row up and over from me.

She says she’s three, but her fingers tell a different story. I have no idea what this girl’s name is, which is probably best in case this blog becomes huge so she doesn’t have TMZ coming after her. [NOTE: The water on today’s flight tastes like a mixture of hand lotion and icy hot.] We’ll call her Nancy, given my earlier stance on old-school names. Nancy had two shining moments before we reached 10,000 feet and my headphones went in.

1. Nancy’s mom was traveling with Nancy and her younger sister. Mom leaned up to the gentleman in front of her and asked that if little sister was getting too annoying to let her know, and she’d take little sister out of the carseat and hold her. The gentleman told her everything is fine, and Nancy responded by asking, “Mommy, is that PawPaw?” “No baby, that’s the nice man who is sitting in front of us.”PawPaw, if you’re reading this, congratulations on being generic.

2. As I mentioned, we were waiting on connecting flights. During the wait, Nancy asked, “Mommy, are we here?” This was a totally legitimate question given how much time we spent sitting at the gate.

As I close up the computer for this trip, I can tell you this, the safety information card in your seat pocket is very interesting to a three year-old. Also, I have determined that part of flight attendant school is avoiding French fries in the aisle. Nancy has gotten a little careless in her old age, yet no one has stepped on the rejected potatoes she has left strewn about the cabin.

Anyway, you want an advertisement for birth control? Film people traveling with their kids. Frozen pea sales will skyrocket.

Finally, I’m not sure about the amenities in Heaven, but if there’s a blog ticker up there somewhere and this is scrolling [Not saying these words are worthy of glory, but there’s a lot of time in eternity], to all you folks who were old when I was little, thanks for taking the time to eerily stop and look at me, making ridiculous faces and talking in awkward voices at me. My parents probably didn’t like it at the time, but I’m sure you meant well… Nice wings.