The year was 2002. I was very pregnant with Sleepy and Grumpy was still a toddler. Bashful had just finished pre-K. Our condo was up for sale and we were going through horrendous negotiations that brought me to tears on a regular basis. Doc told me to get out of town for some much needed R & R. So, I booked a flight to visit my parents.
I've always loved to fly even though I don't do it often. I often like to look around in the airports and wonder where everyone is going. Are they on a business trip? Are they visiting family? Are they on vacation? I love the busy-ness of it all. The flight attendants always draw my attention as well. Their made-up hair and makeup, the crisp, professional suits they wear, and the calm smiles they always had on their faces made me think I could be a flight attendant if I had a different life. To go all over the world was something I often daydreamed about until I realized that they probably only see the inside of the airports more often than not.
The boys and I found our seats on the plane with no problem and enjoyed the take-off very much. I kept them occupied throughout the flight and things were going smoothly for me considering I was tired from the pregnancy and just wanted to lay down.
As we were nearing our destination, the plane began its descent. It was not a smooth descent, but I have a strong constitution so it didn't bother me. Grumpy, on the other hand, threw up all over me. He threw up on himself, too. And the floor.
The nice flight attendant came over and gave me a barf bag. I opened it and was ready for anymore upchucking, but the damage was already done. With what napkins were available, I did my best to clean up Grumpy and myself before the plane reached the terminal. When it was our turn to get up and leave the plane, I looked at the flight attendant with an agonized uncertainty. She calmly told me not to worry about the floor. They would clean it good as new, I was promised. It made me think that maybe I didn't want to be a flight attendant after all since cleaning up strange kids' puke was part of the job.
We were greeted by my father and as he got a whiff from our general direction, I was quick to explain what happened. He was very understanding and we went straight for the baggage claim. We claimed my luggage and Grumpy was changed into fresh clothes. I, on the other hand, was used to the sight and smell of puke on me in the last few years and opted to change at my parent's house.
Needless to say, that was quite the flying experience. I have flown since then and I've realized that it isn't the most pleasant experience. I am usually juggling a little one about in my arms while trying to take my shoes off for inspections. Fun. I've also learned from my previous experience and have a barf bag handy. Just in case.
I've always loved to fly even though I don't do it often. I often like to look around in the airports and wonder where everyone is going. Are they on a business trip? Are they visiting family? Are they on vacation? I love the busy-ness of it all. The flight attendants always draw my attention as well. Their made-up hair and makeup, the crisp, professional suits they wear, and the calm smiles they always had on their faces made me think I could be a flight attendant if I had a different life. To go all over the world was something I often daydreamed about until I realized that they probably only see the inside of the airports more often than not.
The boys and I found our seats on the plane with no problem and enjoyed the take-off very much. I kept them occupied throughout the flight and things were going smoothly for me considering I was tired from the pregnancy and just wanted to lay down.
As we were nearing our destination, the plane began its descent. It was not a smooth descent, but I have a strong constitution so it didn't bother me. Grumpy, on the other hand, threw up all over me. He threw up on himself, too. And the floor.
The nice flight attendant came over and gave me a barf bag. I opened it and was ready for anymore upchucking, but the damage was already done. With what napkins were available, I did my best to clean up Grumpy and myself before the plane reached the terminal. When it was our turn to get up and leave the plane, I looked at the flight attendant with an agonized uncertainty. She calmly told me not to worry about the floor. They would clean it good as new, I was promised. It made me think that maybe I didn't want to be a flight attendant after all since cleaning up strange kids' puke was part of the job.
We were greeted by my father and as he got a whiff from our general direction, I was quick to explain what happened. He was very understanding and we went straight for the baggage claim. We claimed my luggage and Grumpy was changed into fresh clothes. I, on the other hand, was used to the sight and smell of puke on me in the last few years and opted to change at my parent's house.
Needless to say, that was quite the flying experience. I have flown since then and I've realized that it isn't the most pleasant experience. I am usually juggling a little one about in my arms while trying to take my shoes off for inspections. Fun. I've also learned from my previous experience and have a barf bag handy. Just in case.
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