Real Life: Sorry that I’m not sorry - My kid puked on you

Life Lesson: 2014 is the year I stop over-apologizing!

My son gets airsick. A lot. My adventures flying with him could become the topic of an entirely new website. Sure, I’ve carried my son down the airplane aisle like a football, trying to get to the bathroom in time. We’ve been asked to de-board a plane within seconds of sitting down with my screaming son (followed by a round of applause for leaving the plane). And yes, I have paid a flight attendant twenty bucks for his fancy Gap white t-shirt after my son threw up all over his own clothes. Needless to say, I’m the lady you don’t want to fly next to.

More...after the jump

Fast forward a year or so, and in my mind, I finally had everything under control. This mom was prepared! Name-brand Dramamine, check (I often buy off-brand products, but NOT when it comes to Dramamine). Extra clothes, check. Bland foods and crackers, check. Nothing was going to go wrong this time.

On a recent trip a guy in front of me went on (and on) about Vegas strip clubs, I let it go. That’s what headphones are for, right?! And when the guy next to me took up all his space and part of mine, I let that go too. Sure, part of my elbow was jammed into my rib cage and THAT secretly was driving me crazy, but I knew I had to let that go too. Considering all the flights we’ve ruined, I needed to build up our airplane karma. Again, NOTHING was going to go wrong this time, come what may.

Three and half hours into the flight (and 37 rib pokes later) my baby was an angel – no bathroom breaks, no screaming or yelling – but as I leaned over to tell him how proud I was, I noticed his face was turning fifty shades of green, and I knew my luck was going to change… quickly!

I politely asked the man next to me (the one already taking up half my space) to please excuse me and my son so that we could go to the restroom.

He rolled his eyes and kept reading his book…
what?!

He had to misunderstand me because, he clearly wasn’t getting up. So after what felt like a lifetime had passed, I again asked him to please get up. Again, he rolled his eyes, but this time it came with a sigh and a “man fit” for good measure. Shocked, I looked at him and said in no uncertain terms, “Get up or my son is going to puke on you”. And no sooner than I finished saying it, Chance was already fulfilling my prophecy. (Not puking ALL over him, but I can’t say some of it didn’t get on his shoes.)

Usually I would try to hide in the bathroom for a while, hoping that by the time I had summoned enough courage to face everyone, they would have forgotten about the disaster. (A girl can dream right?!). But not this time! 2014 is the year I stop over-apologizing! I gave Captain Ribjammer plenty of notice and fair warning, and his petulant resistance to my requests ultimately determined his shoes’ fate. So in the end, if life is pointing you in a direction, don’t resist it because it’s inconvenient… you’ll end up with puke on your shoes.

Cheers to the Journey,

Brittany Begley

TheRealHousewifeOfCouponCounty.com