Boomlet on a plane

I am writing this on a plane right now and – I am not exaggerating – Eric and I are the only people over 15 years old on this plane. The entire flight so far has been constant shrieking, wailing, crying, whining and even a steady stream of farting noises from the baby behind us.

Don't get me wrong: I love babies and children of all ages. But if Samuel L Jackson were here, he would say: “Maaaan! There be a mother f*ing boomlet on this mother f*ing plane!”

And he would be right.

The 8-ish year old kid in front of Eric has been an especially nuisancey nuisance: he keeps grabbing Eric’s sockfeet and he has been maniacally putting his chair back and up and back and up the whole time. And then unexpectedly he turned kittenish and became engaged in a bizarre game of fish where Eric teased him with a blanket and his little child fingers tried to catch it. I'm not sure how else to describe that exchange.

The other funny part of the flight is that the fellow on the aisle seat, an Asian guy about our age, is so cheery and sociable that he kept contributing comments to the conversations that Eric and I were having. It was harmless enough - at one point we were talking about good kitchen knives and this guy lobbed in a comment with his own view on knives. It wasn't really a personal conversation but it still feels weird to have someone be so shameless about eavesdropping.

We're on a plane because we’re going to Cleveland for the weekend to visit some of Eric’s friends who live there. We’re going to go to Cedar Point, where all the best roller coasters are born. We will ride them. Except for the ones that Eric is too tall to ride.