Take That

Do you ever get those moments, when you have the wittiest cleverest retort, only perhaps just too late. Here is mine.

Miles up in the air, my airplane seat comfortably (as it can be) reclined as far down as it an airplane seat can recline, I was drifting slowly but surely into some semblance of sleep when. . . I felt the thud-thud-thud of tiny kiddy feet kicking my seat. Breathe, breathe. I turn back, muster a smile, and oh-so-nicely say,

"Your son..oops...daughter (guilty in the charge of gender stereotyping) is kicking my chair."

Apologies accepted. Okay. Cool. But this little spawn of the devil imp keeps on thud-thud-thud my chair. thud-thud-thud. Okay Cool. Tell the mum again, albeit a little more harshly. Thud-thud-thud continues. All the way from Tokyo to Kuala Lumpur.

OKAY. If that devil-imp ever reads my blog, or her mum, here's to wishing I threw my hot green tea on your lap, screamed and created a hullabaloo because NOBODY should ever have to put up with a kid going thud-thud-thud on an airplane. The next kid who does that to me, WOE ON YOU.