Open Letters in Flight

I had to fly home. Again. For a funeral. Again. It was not a pleasant journey.

Again.

I have some things to say.

.

Dear Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport:

Your “Family Line” is $#@% amazeballs. You allowed me and Squirmy McGee to cut in front of about 150 people and I was through security in less than five minutes. THAT IS AWESOME. I have never seen a line quite so long there and I was not looking forward to standing in it. BUT I DIDN’T HAVE TO. I felt like royalty. It was a bright spot on my crazy ass day.

.

Dear Nice Seatmate from MSP to BWI:

I was a little worried when you gave me the side eye as you slid into the seat next to me. Everyone at the gate had seen my little $%!# screaming; I knew it didn’t look good. However, I was pleasantly surprised to your willingness to be “patted” by my child and by the ensuing conversation about your children (who are so handsome!). And from the bottom of my heart, I appreciate you allowing my kid to gnaw on your iPhone. That solved a lot of issues and significantly decreased my stress level. And giving my kid a little baseball keychain from your work? ICING ON THE MFing CAKE. Please sit next to me every flight.

.

Dear FAA, Congress, Government, Whomever else I blamed for the last flying shitshow:

Please accept my sincere apologies. It wasn’t your fault last time. Turns out the little dude is just a bad flyer now. Do not expect this power duo to be on any upcoming flights unless we are accompanied by another adult. I won’t be playing this game alone again.

.

Dear People Who Think “Baby Sections” on Planes are Good Ideas:

They aren’t. Here’s why. Babies? They $%@!# FEED off each other. CASE IN POINT: Little A + the Seven Month Old behind us. She would cry, he would cry. She would chatter, he would chatter back. AND HE DOESN’T CHATTER. She would scream, he would return fire. While it was pretty damn cute to have these two babies conversing and love connecting between the seats, I doubt it was adored by others. Little beasts need to be separated.

.

Dear Tammy at the BWI Delta Counter:

I would seriously like to crawl into your head and try to see the logic of getting me, my giant suitcase I had already retrieved from baggage claim , a stroller, a diaper bag and a screaming baby back through security to claim my lost item. Your “yeah, I don’t know how that’ll work” was fairly totally unhelpful. I’m just buying a new lost item unless it still happens to be at the gate when my parents pass through this weekend. I ain’t schlepping through the airport for that, especially since I would still have to have the child in tow!Β I understood the thirty minute wait because you were swamped, but a little empathy could have gone a long way.

.

Dear #!%!# Baby:

ENOUGH WITH THE LIMP NOODLE EVASION TECHNIQUE. I CANNOT HANDLE THAT SHIT OH MY GOD.

.

Dear 2013:

GO F%$@ YOURSELF.

.

I imagine this is actually easier.

.

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