I’m on a flight to New Orleans. There’s a child maybe three rows behind me who won’t stop the yelling, the wailing in all directions with her head about to eject right from her shoulders. I’ve noticed that parents don’t turn children toward them when they start this kind of thing. Instead, they face their darlings forward, particularly on an airplane or in a movie theater, so that the remaining 150 of us can enjoy the mezzo soprano as she shrieks in inhuman tones. Inhuman isn’t exactly right, but nothing that didn’t get enough Novocain or hasn’t been cheated on yells like that. The latter doesn’t seem likely, so I’m guessing the baby must hurt really badly, in its ears or in its tummy, and I’m guessing too that me drop kicking it into the lavatory wouldn’t really do much to make it feel better. I’m pretty sure I would feel better.
I’m slightly disturbed at the time I’m spending thinking about how we as a crew and passengers might unite to make it stop. It surely wouldn’t kill the child to put it in an empty overhead compartment, or even nestle it up there between a few coats, or even better in a carry-on bag. There’s enough air in the compartment for a short flight, and we can always offer it milk or whiskey when the drink cart goes by. Maybe it would enjoy a trip up the aisle on the drink caddy, the muted clanking of bottles of Beam comforting it into a deep snooze. I know that generally works for me. I’m also guessing there are pretty nice accommodations downstairs, in the bowels of the plane, where they keep dogs and cargo like ancient statues, the ones that will inevitably end up cursing a bunch of kids during summer vacation in some Disney movie. There is definitely air and probably lots of room to roll around and maybe even play games, like pulling on electrical wires that control nothing of importance other than flaps and wheels.
I love that when such a clear offense against travel etiquette occurs, people do ridiculous things in response. I particularly enjoy those who turn around in their seats. They crane necks round seats and rows to display their disdain for both noise and neglectful parenting. Others opine loudly. “Our children never cried like demons! And all three were pretty fucking wretched.” I personally find the “Can’t someone get that kid to stop crying?” the most hysterical of the bunch, because I never turn around to find a parent ignoring a child’s cries while downing champagne and free pretzel mix. Unless it’s off the flight attendant’s navel. Most parents are red-faced, mortified, and wearing a look that says “please understand if murder was legal I would have put this dirty Delta pillow right down her screamer.”
Frantic parents also make promises to the wee yelling one. They start off relatively benign and truthful. “If you’re good we’ll go to grandmas for cake!” Harmless. Only when there is no favorable response do they escalate to statements that if untrue ensure group therapy in early adulthood. Slippery slope, this. “You’ll get to meet Dora today and maybe she’ll sign your book!” quickly becomes, 20 minutes in when parents lose all ties to reality and the old man in 23D awakes, a case study in the borderline demented. “Luciferrette? If you stop screaming I promise you’ll marry Spongebob and have Barney at your wedding and will never be forced to work on a college group project or have cramps ever ever ever in your life. IN FACT! Wee silent babies will shoot out of your vagina while you’re on the beach drinking vodka and eating McRibs! And all this – THIS! – can be yours if you’ll just. stop. crying. WHADDYA SAY?” I’ve noticed that the children actually stop cold while considering this most generous offer, only to dissolve into louder wails when Mom and Dad break out that last part. It was probably the jazz hands.
23 Comments
Having been the parent of the screaming child, I promise — no, I swear, Kris, I PROMISE, and not in a douchey way — that it’s worse for us. I would have given my RIGHT ARM to be able to throw a couple of earbuds in and crank the volume to eleven on my iPod and be able to ignore that shit. Instead, I must spend the remainder of the flight not only listening to the miserable, woeful cries of my progeny, but I am also somehow responsible for MAKING THEM STOP, when making an infant stop doing something is like trying to knock a nose off of Mount Rushmore with a penny.
It’s horrible. And if I could avoid flying altogether with children, so help me God, I WOULD. I promise you, I would. I would spare you that misery. But alas, some places are too far to drive.
On behalf of parents of screaming kids on planes everywhere, I am truly sorry.
Hysterical post – and so dead on. Who wouldn’t want to stuff the little demon in the overhead? Esp the parents. My kids have *luckily* been decent flyers, they’re so damn mesmerized by everything. But they’ve had outbursts. And when they do – everything in my power is done to get the kid to stop – all the while apologizing to the poor soul next to us.
The other thing I do…if I’m traveling alone…and seats are unassigned, I try to find the mom w/ the infant on her lap or toddler next to her avoiding eye contact – and I sit next to them. The kid stuff doesn’t bother me and I’m sure she’s relieved to have a fellow mom to travel next to instead of some big grumpy dude.
I was on a flight to New Orleans recently. And damn, I could not stop crying, either.
Oh my god! You don’t think? No. It couldn’t have been.
You make me laugh, Kris.
I feel so badly for parents who suffer with this, and it seems like no matter how hard they try…at some point, when traveling with kids, all parents do. But then again, who amongst us hasn’t wanted to scream on an airplane from time to time? I mean, that little girl didn’t have luxury of the beverage cart at her $5 beck & call, you know?? ;-)
I was that parent just 2 days ago. Oh how I wished it was acceptable to put the kid in the overhead compartment. Or maybe leave him in the seat and climb in there myself. Wine helps, but only if you can drink it fast enough before he spills it on you.
If I ever have a daughter, I’m totally naming her “Luciferrette.”
You mention wailing like that while having been cheated on…is this a recent occurance for you?
There are parents out there who let their kids run wild, but glaring or commenting at a parent whose child is crying is truly mean — there is so obviously nothing that can be done about it (other than putting them in the overhead bin).
This is why I didn’t fly with my son until he was five or six.
As a well-seasoned traveler with screaming monkeys, I agree with those above that “this hurts me more than it hurts you,” as hard as that is to believe.
It’s much harder now that the monklettes are older and they have to try to soothe me when I scream on flights. At least I don’t soil myself. Often.
Worse yet is the flight from London to Montreal I had where there was a lovely little baby whose parents were IGNORING IT while it screamed (not a pain scream, an annoyance scream), which ignited 2 other babies in the same few rows – and me with a hugely severe migraine.
I moved after takeoff and didn’t kill any babies. Because, I was about to smother them all with the pillow I was keeping over my ear while the migraine tears streamed down my face.
Not one word uttered by these parents to this child, they just ignored it. While the rest of us had to suffer.
When I was a baby/annoying crier, my parents always gave me drowsy Benadryl for kids (or some kind of drowsy decongestant). I’d sleep through the entire flight and my ears wouldn’t hurt. I wish it was mandatory.
I like to think I’m fairly tolerant of babies on planes, but one sounded so awful once that I told my parents that if they wanted, I’d stick my finger in my gin and tonic and rub it along the baby’s gums.
It always worked with us. . .
Kris – my parents used to dose my sister & I with liquid gravol for kids – slept like angels on all flights :)
benadryl?
For those parents saying “it’s even harder on us…” I would disagree.
We innocent bystanders are not always able to block out the sound or ignore it…And while it may be painful for you…you LOVE that child more than life itself… We do not have that level of emotion to balance out our sheer, painful annoyance.
I empathize with you, but, really it IS worse for us.
OK. I admit it. I’m a neck-craner.
This is a really mean-spirited post.
I can handle the screaming babies, because I realize after all that they’re limited in their options to communicate. However what I can’t handle is adults who are completely unaware of the olfactory assault they have launched on anyone within a 15 foot radius. I was once seated next to a man who I swear had KFC stuffed in his pockets and he had the nerve to give the hairy eyeball to the baby crying in the row in front of us.
I think Aileen will have to wait until she’s in that situation to judge who’s got it worse. And karma will probably make that happen for her. :)
At least the suffering passengers can put in their earbuds and drown the kid out. (This is what I’ve always done when traveling for business.) If I forgot my iPod — my fault. Luckily it was only a problem if I was within three or four rows of the kid. Airplanes themselves are LOUD.
I’ve never been that parent, but now that I have a kid I totally understand. You have to travel, you have to bring the kid. You have very little control over whether the kid randomly decides to freak out or not. You’re completely helpless and at the mercy of a dozen or so other passengers in earshot who hate you. It’s a miserable circumstance. I maintain that parents who ignore that their kid is kicking my seat are much worse than parents who have the bad luck of suffering through a flight with a screaming kid.
Amen, Kris. Aythefuckmen. And to the breeders who claim they have it worse, to thee I say suck it. If memory serves me right, um, you signed up for this parenting gig? The rest of us are just stuck witnessing it.
Hi Kris, this the first of your posts I’ve read and I’m LMAO in bed. It’s your fault I’ve not made it to the shower and the office, but I’d rather laugh a little.
I’m so guilty of all the reactionary behaviors mentioned in your post. I never had a kid, so I don’t have the empathy necessary not to crane my neck over and around the seat.
I can forgive the wee ones, they can’t help themselves. The altitude screws with their ears and we all know how painful that is. The ones I don’t get over are the toddlerettes with the bad ‘tude. The tantrummers, whiners, rude little monsters. THOSE I dislike, but I dislike their parents even more, because let’s face it, that kid gets away with what mom & pop allows them to.
This is really about me, isn’t it?
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[...] Girl, Not Yet a Wino is on a plane and a child is having a crying fit. Frustration levels rise, and passengers try to strike back. She writes: I love that when such a clear offense against travel etiquette occurs, people do [...]