Babies, Redux

I have brought it on myself. As anyone who’s read The Secret knows, whatever you put out to the universe comes back to you.

Last week I went on a semi-rant about how I love babies, except on airplanes.  If you're really, really interested, you can find it at http://cornerat8th.blogspot.com/.
As I sit writing this, on our flight from Charlotte to Los Angeles, a toddler sits immediately behind me. Relatively well behaved (as toddlers on airplanes go), but nonetheless prone to crying when mom slipped off to the bathroom while she was asleep.  It spent part of the rest of the trip intermittently kicking the back of my seat.

Even First Class is not a safe haven.

Mom, however, is resourceful and as we speak is walking the child up and down the aisle in an effort to approach “napdom” at some point in the near future.

On a bright note, there were two choices for lunch – a ham sandwich with potato salad or a southwestern salad with a BBQ chicken breast. We had different entrees, but both seemed to be better than the cup full of trail mix that I snagged before we left the lounge in the Charlotte airport.

The Flight Attendant, a guy about our age, understands what makes for happy fliers and continues to bring little bottles of vodka, cans of orange juice and Bloody Mary mix. He is fast becoming my nominee for US Airways Employee of the Year.

The other bonus we got – our big bags, weighing in at a total of 81 pounds for the two of them (which sounds like a lot, until you figure it’s two of us for almost a month) are checked all the way through to Bangkok. Hopefully they’ll be waiting for us when we get off that last airplane sometime on Wednesday (local time). In the meantime, we don’t have to worry about them.

For now, I feel a nap coming on.