Sunday, June 28, 2009

REPEAT EPISODE: Doormats




Quote of the Week:

There are only two types of women-goddesses and doormats.
~Pablo Picasso

Local Weather:
Sunshine, despite the lack of warmth
most likely followed by showers of
undigested food particles in the late evening.

Currently on my IPOD:
People are Strange by: The Doors

Hello my dear friends,

I am home. And as Benjamin Franklin says, Fish and Relatives smell in three days. I have been gone for seven in Georgia. Deduce what you want from that statement. Although I must say I am not sure if they were the ones with the stench, I have the feeling it was me...

Regardless, this was not an uneventful week. First off, the plane ride over to Georgia from Denver is not a short one. Coming in at around 3 hours, there are times in which I wish the pilots would just speed it up to around Warp Speed and get us the duck out of fodge.

However....people on this day decided to travel with their children. I did learn that I have surprisingly poor super power abilities to make myself and the others around me invisible. I failed. Miserably failed. And guess what. The others who were traveling with children...they were seated to my left and then to the immediate rear of me.

Let’s address the issue of the children sitting behind me first. Two boys. Two boys around the ages of say...hmmm...7 & 5. One boy: Blonde, rowdy and into the whole hair pulling thing. The other one: Brunette, Pissed off and into the whole biting thing. I won’t distinguish which was which. The mother: Looked fairly normal. Now, I don’t have boys, but still. The second the plane boarded in its entirety, she handed them brownies or some kind of other Little Debbie Snack cake in a plastic wrapper. They finished the delicacy within the confines of processed foods and then the fighting started. Not the no I didn’t, yes you did, no I didn’t sort, it was more of ultimate fighting championship ala Airtran Airlines. My seat was bucking, going back and forth and the airline pilot was managing to keep the plane as steady as I had yet to experience.

Then the biting started. I think one of them drew blood from the other. At least it was beginning to smell like blood. Status on the mother: Silent, reading her book. I thought for a brief moment, good for her, ignoring them, letting them kill themselves without her help. And then it was time for the drink service. The hapless air waitresses came down our section of the flight, offering a bevy of plastic cups that aren’t recycled and a limited selection of drinks and snacks, most of which dehydrate you further while you are flying. (***Nurse Cicily says: Dehydration is a known problem during flying, next time you’re en route and enjoying the entertainment of those around you,choose the water and skip the pretzels and or peanuts. You can order vodka or gin..if you have the money, just make sure you follow it with water) I ordered my water, threw the peanuts into the carry on bag for a later date and thought that maybe the three ring circus behind me would settle in for a drink.

Yeah, fat chance.

No, they didn’t want the peanuts and yes, that’s all the ladies had to offer. The mother smacks the older kid upside the head and says, wadda ya want? at the top of her lungs. He screams back, Cherry Coke. Oh dear hell. Caffeinated, dehydrating fluids. My index like brain quickly ran over the side effects. Irritability, excessive venerability and possible death by bludgeoning from the unsuspecting quiet red head in the seat in front of him. The next boy...ordered the same. Then the two boys proceeded to scream that they didn’t want the healthy shit their mother was offering them. I peaked behind my seat and found them throwing the nutri-grain simulated nutritional bars she had just tossed their way, onto the floor. The younger one even ground the bar into the floor with his untied shoe.

The older kid was, at this point, grabbing his brother in the head lock he had promised him a few minutes previous to the beverage service and the drink spilled all over the floor. I was waiting for candid camera to pop up or my magical stun gun to appear in my hand. The mother finally turned to them, and through her gritted teeth mouth, said, if you don’t stop now, I’ll take away your M&M’s.

Yeah, stick it to em’. WTF?

I would have killed them and easily taken the jail sentence or corporal punishment. On the way out of the plane, they pushed, shoved and screamed their way out to the ramp. The mother, screamed back, wait, wait up. Helpless little kittens, oh, how they have lost their mittens. Right? The oldest boy turned around and said, I don’t have to listen to you anyway, you’re my step-mom.

BINGO! Doormat # 1, we have a winner.

So, as I ramble on and on, I come to the uncertain fate of the woman next to me and her seemingly angelic little girl. The girl had ringlets, yes, real ringlets, pouring down from her scalp to her shoulders. Her light and unblemished skin aged her to be around 2 or 3 at the very most. She had a pacifier in and for most of the ride. Nearing the end of my patience with the boys from hell behind me, she woke up, plucked her pacifier out of her mouth and threw it across the aisle. At me. I picked it up, offered the mother to go rinse it off and then the girl said NO! I want it now! The mom looked at me and smiled. I forked over the pacifier without saying a word. The little girl then looked at her mom and screamed, I WANT OUT OF HERE NOW!!!! Sure, most kids get frightened on their first flights and may get a little claustrophobic like the adults in the cabin who didn't have the five bucks to buy the 0.02 oz of vodka to go in their sprite or cran-apple juice...I digress. Then the little girl got up, ran around the aisles and started to scream at the adults.

This flight was not a late night flight. This was not a red-eye flight.

The mom just sat there and took it. Yeah, I wouldn’t have been so kind. Not that I am one to completely duct tape my children to the chair or anything, but come on! Be responsible and keep your kids under control.

Okay, enough about that. Sorry, my rant went on longer than I expected. And as for the last part of my weather forecast? Yeah, Saturday night went out with some friends and got the worst case of food poisoning in my life. I still have not stopped with the nausea or the product of nausea. I don’t think it’ll ever end. My stomach feels as though its been hole punched by some mutant bacteria.

I’m sure I’ll survive, but you better tune in next week to make sure I do...

Oh, and don’t forget to check out my retreat site: Writing Away Retreats. Would love to see you all there!

Yours in Fabulous Parenting, Food Fights and Fussing Over Nothing,

Cicily
*Repeating my oldies until the MS is done. If you'd like to guest blog on here, let me know, you're more than welcome to contribute until I get done! And don't forget, your registrations for Writing Away Retreats need to be filled out!*

2 comments:

PrettySiren said...

I found your recounting of the flight to be terribly amusing. Though, granted, it perhaps wasn't to you at the time.

-Carrie
(a new follower)

Prompt Romp

Mark W said...

Between seeing those lovely children and having food poisoning, aren't you so in the mood? (Yes, Mark, to have all internal organs removed and live on guile forever!)