With the five year old who managed to wedge his sandalled foot under the footrest of his airplane seat. Do I break his foot off to get him out a la 127 Hours? How can I extricate him from this situation when I have managed to wedge my own arse into this impossibly small, profit to the max, ram them in, seat arrangement? I can’t even reach his foot…I too am stuck. Stuck with a small and panicked child.
With the five year old who needed to ‘go wee’ while the plane was descending.
With the 1 year old who thought it was funny to play with the disgusting bins in Coolangatta Airport whilst the Jetstar flight was delayed by hours and the bogans of Australia sat slowly munching their way through kilos of Eagle Boys pizza. Fat, tanned, tattooed pizza munchers.
With the 1 year old who made ‘cute eyes’ at the Indonesian death metal band.
Who the business man looked at and said: ‘I’m so glad some children are as badly behaved as mine…[I’m off on a business trip bwahahahahahhahahahahaha]’ ASSHOLE. Your shoes need a polish and your blazer doesn’t match your trousers.
Whose 5 year old managed to push the emergency stop at the baggage claim. After a delayed flight.
Who looked at the flowers her husband bought her (to ease the pain of the WORST HOLIDAY EVER) and said “I CAN’T EAT THESE!”. #hangry
Take outs: do not travel by yourself with two small children, do not fly Jetstar, do not ever fly into or out of Coolangatta Airport.
May I have another holiday please? By myself? In a silent ashram?
