This picture might be the only smile I got from Robbie. It’s his “Cheese!” smile. If you know how to get a child to behave on a plane, please let me know. Apparently I have no idea. At all. On our first flight, we cleared the front of the plane. The gentleman sitting on the other side of the row first moved up to the front row to escape us. As soon as the “fasten seat belt” sign went off, he bolted to the back of the plane. I got the last laugh, there, though… The poor guy was also on our flight to Boston. I won’t lie; I got a kick out of seeing the irritation wash across his face when we passed him during boarding.
We had seats to ourselves during both flights, which was a huge relief. It’s so much easier to deal with a squirmy child when you don’t have to also worry about him kicking the woman next to you. Or vomiting on the gentleman in the suit on his way to a job interview (as happened in August).
Robbie does, apparently, enjoy flying the business commuter flights to the standard puddle jumpers. As soon as he was able, he left my lap to stretch out in the leather seat and sit like a real big boy. He made friends with the flight attendant and was, perhaps, the only one to listen intently to his presentation on how to buckle a seat belt and use an oxygen mask.
The real challenge, though, came after both flights. We got in from Laguardia thirty minutes early and had to wait over an hour for Justin to come and retrieve us. Robbie offered his ball to a stranger sitting down the row of chairs. And she was a stranger… No one I would have approached. He made two runs to the escalator, forcing me to make a quick decision between child and purse. He spun in circles until he couldn’t walk. And he cried. A lot. That made two of us…