Planes ....

You curse your luck when you realise that the woman in front of you carrying the newborn baby is heading for the same row of seats that you are. You blaspheme when you realise that they are siting on the same side of the plane.  So I was using the lord’s name in vain to the max when I boarded my flight to London. Seat 23 A and B, mother and baby. Seat 23 C, yours truly. I smiled and said hello, trying to hide the frustration I was feeling. But I was wrong to curse my luck,the baby was the smiliest, happiest baby I’ve ever seen on a flight and the mother avoided that annoying baby talk that can be worse than a screaming tot. We chatted a little bit, I found out it was a little boy called Zak who was excited to be meeting his grandparents for the first time but then both the baby and I fell asleep and the mum read her book. At the end of the flight I stood up and smiled at the mum and said a brief farewell before leaving her to collect her stuff.

Then I felt it, a sharp pain in my shoulder, like someone whacking me with an umbrella. I turned around to see an old woman brandishing an umbrella.

‘You’re a pig, young man.’ She said taking aim with her weapon again. I took out an earphone. ‘A pig,’ she repeated as she swung again but this time I dodged the blow. ‘Your poor wife struggling with the baby and the bags, and you swanning around as if it is none of your responsibility.’

‘It is none of my responsibility. She’s not my wife,’ I said defensively, ‘I’ve never met this woman before.’

The old lady shrugged her shoulders as if she’d done noting wrong and disembarked from the plane.