About forty minutes into the screaming, her baby screamed the mightiest, ear-piercing scream he had theretofore let out, and then he instantly fell asleep. This was a giant relief for other passengers and an even bigger relief for his mother who for the first time relaxed in her chair a bit.
Cue Dan, the idiot man.
After a couple minutes I quietly looked over at her. “Looks like he had one last war cry left, and that was all she wrote, huh?” The mom smiled and nodded.
At the same time mom was nodding, the baby’s eyes shot open. The baby stared into my soul. And, the baby began screaming once more. I had woken the baby up.
I felt awful. This mom hated me now, guaranteed. Every other passenger wanted to hook a parachute to this mother and baby and push them overboard, I’m guessing. At least that’s what she was fearing. And it was my fault. Oops, sorry mother in 23D. That was totally my bad. Totally.
Eventually we landed, and suddenly this defensive, terrified mother became a real sweetheart Chatty Kathy. I assured her that her baby was fine, not a nuisance at all, and that the other passengers were only worried about him and his poor little ears.
Folks, that wasn’t really true. That baby was annoying as all get-up. I couldn’t write, or read, or so much as enjoy a stupid game on my phone with that baby sitting next to me.
Parents need to hear that on planes. They don’t need eye rolls. They don’t need groans. They don’t need huffs and puffs. They just need you to tell them it’s all good, and that their screaming babies are wonderful.
It is so stressful to take babies on planes. So stressful. Parents of babies punish themselves plenty, I assure you. No need to give ‘em more.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing