The Drop

Well, hello there, pretty things. We survived the flight, obviously, although on the leg home, I’m fairly certain the old man in front of us was fervently wishing — nay, PRAYING TO GOD — that we would not, by some sort of individual seat-ejection, sending Sam and I off into the ether.

You know, no one likes to be on a plane with babies. No one. It sucks, dude. They’re loud, they’re kicky, they’re annoying as fuck. I KNOW. I was That Person once — the person who came home and ranted to her friends about how there was a CHILD on the plane and the kid KICKED and YELLED and CRIED and oh my God, it was THE MOST ANNOYING FLIGHT EVAR.

Dude, I KNOW. What I did not know, however, was that, a) Unless the parent is a totally heartless monster, they are trying SO HARD to make it stop, make it stop, oh my God, MAKE IT STOP, so that you, childless traveler, can be more comfortable. I swear. Oh, and b) They are more miserable than you are. Like, A HUNDRED-FOLD. For not only do they (WE) have to suffer through the screaming, but they are responsible for making the screaming stop, and then, on top of everything, the child — THEIR (OUR) CHILD! — is miserable, and oh, there is heartache, because there is much weeping and woe and because the child does not speak fucking ENGLISH, there is no way to explain rationally how this whole flying thing works. And by “how it works” I mean, YOU HAVE TO STAY SEATED, MORE OR LESS. THAT’S KIND OF ALL THERE IS, KID.

Oh, but I will also tell you that what was also awesome was the special trip the flight attendant made to our seats at the beginning of both flights to give us a Very Special Infant Flotation Vest, with instructions muttered so quickly that I couldn’t have put the vest on if my life depended on it, which HA HA, but also? If we’re going down over water, chances are we’re DEAD ANYWAY, SullyWhatsisface “miracles” notwithstanding.

Ahoy! Thanksgiving! Since we visited Adam’s family this weekend, it’s just OUR little family for the holiday and I am THEEE-RILLED. Yes, yes, we will stuff our faces and relax and nap together AS A FAMILY, and … we will also figure out how to devour an 11-pound turkey between the, uh, two of us, but do you know that’s basically the smallest turkey you can get from our local, uh, turkey people? (I can’t just do a breast. I like a WHOLE TURKEY.) And I’m totally making Pioneer Woman’s mashed potatoes, which feature cream cheese, cream and other assorted dairy products.

And HEY, speaking of potatoes, you should make these soon, because THEY ARE DELISH.

And with that, if I don’t talk to you (though I hope to) beforehand, I hope you have a happy Thanksgiving.

*Peter Gabriel

25 comments November 23rd, 2009