Tales of Airplane Rides

I'm sure you have all been sitting around dying for me to post again. Because I'm sure you all just love to read my blog. Sorry for my absence...things were craaazy busy! But we are now home safe and sound and there are millions of pictures to come. But unfortunately I have to work before I can upload pictures. Darn job. Ahem.

But... I could leave you with a few tales of airplane rides. Because I know you are curious. And my few tales were rather long when I finished so you can skip them if you want. Pictures will come later.

The first airplane ride was nearly perfect. The guy next to me did not speak English, but he did understand enough about life to move and let Savannah have his seat, and he sat in the vacant row behind us. Thank you, nice man. I wondered for a second what could motivate him to be so nice, and I turned around to spy him sleeping with his head back and his mouth open. Ah. He took one look at the toddler and thought... if I'm gonna sleep I better move quick! I don't blame you, nice man. Savannah happily sat in her own seat like a big girl and munched on goldfish and talked to everyone around her for the duration of the ride. Ah, nice plane ride.

The layover was a bit chaotic. BIG airport, tons of people, and Savannah decided she was hungry. I changed her diaper and set out in search of our gate and something to eat. We spotted a pizza place, and managed to get a slice of pizza and a cup of milk for $11. No, that is not a typo. They actually charged me $7 for one slice of pizza and $4 for a 8-ounce container of milk (hello... I could have bought a gallon for that...). Ahem. We ate and then boarded our second plane shortly after.

Plane ride number two was not like plane ride number one. Savannah was mostly over the excitement by this point and she was tired. Tired of staying awake and tired of being confined. I settled into my seat to find that I was next to a teenage guy who took one look at Savannah and made a face. (Hey! That was NOT nice!) I asked the flight attendant if I could move to the empty seats across the aisle, to which she told me that I could not move since I had a baby on my lap, but teenage dude next to me could relocate himself. I looked at him, and he didn't really respond. I said to him, "she said if you want, you can move to that seat over there." He said "whatever. I mean... whatever." (Uhm, what? Okay.) We start to take off and Savannah starts to kick him. Repeatedly. She thinks its funny. I again state that he can MOVE to the empty seats, to which he responds this time. Good work, girlie. Savannah happily takes his seat and watches Elmo for a bit. She smashes her hand in the seatbelt clip and screams bloody murder for a few minutes, and then returns to watching Elmo. The flight attendant comes around with drinks, and gives me a Diet Coke. Savannah makes a grab for my ice and knocks my Diet Coke into my carryon bag. Seriously?!?! I tried to contain and clean as best I could and determined to stay calm. Everything was going well... until the descent. The flight attendant tells me that Savannah has to sit on my lap and buckle until we land. Thank you, lady, for making the last ten minutes of the flight complete misery for everyone. Savannah was not keen on the idea and managed to scream for the entire descent/landing process. She got quiet for a second, and I suddenly felt my lap go warm and wet. Awesome, we both got to exit the airplane looking like we'd wet our pants. In reality, only one of us had, but that one was sitting on the other one's lap. I head to the bathroom so that we can change... and then realize... our clothes are covered in Diet Coke in the carryon bag. Super.

Flight number three was almost sheer perfection. We board the plane, and Savannah falls asleep while we are still heading down the runway. Yesss. She sleeps the duration on the plane ride and I read a book. The guy next to me also sleeps. So peaceful. Except of course, for Asian guy across the aisle who brings 50 pieces of mail with him to open on the plane. Crunch, crackle, riiiiiip, crumble. I give him evil glares. If he wakes the sleeping toddler, we WILL have issues. What kind of person brings mail to open on the plane?! Not only that, but he gets up and down 20 times and buckles and unbuckles each time. And he has a squeaky seatbelt. Lets be honest, mister. If this plane has an accident, that seatbelt isn't gonna help you. Give it a rest. Lots of evil glares thrown his way. He throws away all 50 envelopes, puts his mail away, and pulls out a copy of Investor magazine. Oh, that explains it. We land on time, and we have approximately 25 minutes until our next flight leaves. We cruise down the runway, and then stop. And wait. I nervously glance at my watch and watch the minutes tick by. When we finally pull into our gate, I have only 10 minutes before my next flight leaves.

The flight attendant radios in to my gate and tells them I'm on my way. I take off in a run. With sleeping toddler. And my carryon. About halfway down the concourse, a dude on a golf cart picks me up. Not sure if that was because 1.) I looked handicapped (have you seen me run) or 2.) I was carrying a sleeping toddler and a bag and running or 3.) I had a look of i'm-going-to-miss-this-plane-and-be-stranded-with-toddler panic on my face. He drives me to the gate where I met Miss Personality.

Miss Personality greets me with, "what are you doin'?" (Uhm, hi, may I help you?!)
"Hello! I'm here to board this plane." I motion down the tunnel thingie to the plane I can see there.
"Nuh-uh. You can't board this plane. You late."
"I understand, but my last plane was late landing, and it was a tight layover to begin with."
"Well, we called yo name and you not come so this flight be closed now."
"I understand, but I could not hear my name being paged because I WAS ON ANOTHER PLANE. IT WAS LATE. I need on this plane, PLEASE."
"It already took off. Sorry."
"It already took off? Its sitting right there. The door isn't even shut."
"They are preparing to take off. Its closed."
I decide that clearly she cannot be reasoned with. I will have to take it down a few levels. "Okay. I understand that I cannot get on this plane. I would like to take the next flight at 7:48 please."
"K. You sit there. I be right back. I gotta go shut the plane door."
Oh. No. She. Didn't.
I determine not to strangle her. She can't help it, surely she can't help it. Maybe someone fed her paint chips as a child. Breathe, breathe.
She returns. Tap, tap, tap on the keyboard. "Whats yo name again?"
"Lauren Beckner."
"Ah thats right, thats who they was missin from that plane."
Oh. My. Gosh.
"Okay Ms. Beckner I think I can get you on the 10:55pm flight."
"No, I want on the next flight. At 7:48. I have a toddler and I cannot wait that long."
"7:48 is full."
"I understand, but it is US Airways fault that I missed the plane, so I want you to put me on the next flight, or I want to talk to your manager. NOW." Without a word, she prints out a boarding pass for 7:48 flight and hands it over and walks away. Stellar customer service, I tell ya.

Flight 4 was short and sweet. Savannah talked nonstop to the nice college student behind us and we landed to be greeted by Daddy holding a bag of french fries for the girl. Man-oh-man, its good to be home!