As the days get closer and closer to our departure date I am dreading the whole flight from now. Not because I don’t want to travel, or the fact that I am always stressed out travelling with children. But solely for the sake of fashion!
Gone are the days when I would rock up to the plane in a cute outfit, with no carry on and just a handbag with a huge smile on my face as I knew it was going to be a lovely flight filled with vino and movies. However, now, the outfit is replaced with the oldest sweatpants in my closest that I could find (as I know it’s going to be covered in chocolate, apple juice and even worse), Gone is the amazing comfort of no carry on, to be replaced with a huge bag of snacks, carrying three backpacks (none of them mine!) a bag for clothes and another one for games, colouring books, toys, and god knows what else that they just can’t live without! Sigh yes, unfortunately, I have become THAT parent.
I can see it now, the face of the stewardess as she counts “1, 2 and then mutters under her breath, lovely 3 children. How exciting for you.” Don’t think I didn’t catch that little bit of sarcasm and disdain but ill let it slide as I breathe a sigh of relief and see three other families just like me. We have outnumbered you already cabin crew! As I wrangle all three to get into their seats and try and figure out where on earth will I place all the items of theirs. It’s a battle now for them to decide which one they can live without for 7 hours, and guess what, its usually nothing. They need it all. Every last shopkins and milkin and whatever else strange toy that’s in the season. Under every seat is a snack bag, and there are loads of bottles of water and juice as I have learned in advance, the constant asking for drinks is never met with amusement from the cabin crew and thus I carry the whole supermarket with me.
Once the drama of settling in and things put here and there and in God knows which overhead locker, the nagging starts, “Mama can you fix my tv” “mama mine isn’t working” “ mama her arm is on my arm rest” as I sit back and stare out towards the rest of the parents on the flight, we knowingly give each other a look of understanding and most likely all remember the days when our only issue was which drink do we choose, or what movie shall we watch. Aah the old days. And what’s even better is that the plane hasn’t even taken off yet.
As the plane takes off, there’s always the one family who thinks their kids are saints and everyone else’s is nightmares. They will constantly look over their shoulder and shush and look at you like you have failed in parenting. The only consolation that gets me through those is karma. Usually, the perfect family picture they have depicted is often thwarted by one of them throwing up, or tantrum towards the end of the flight and everyone forgets what happened throughout and only focus on them! Aah bliss. Revenge is best served cold. Or in this class, a vomit clad t-shirt!
We arrive in one piece and we haven’t killed each other. Once again I’m left carrying every single bag known to mankind and if that wasn’t enough, I’m not the proud owner of the 100 silly airplane toy and bag of toothbrush and toothpaste. Hurrah! As I sit in the taxi, I think, I’m never doing this again. Well, at least not for another 3 weeks.