Baby on Board

Years ago my friend Susie was a flight attendant for an airline that transported military personnel and their families overseas. The flights often originated from countries where very little, if any, English was spoken. Although she only spoke English and a few textbook-type phrases of other languages, Susie was not daunted. Indeed, she not only welcomed the challenge but relished it. Pantomime, patience, voice inflection, and smiles went a long way. She never imagined, however, that she would have to communicate, in any fashion, this instruction: “No, Ma’am, you do not put babies in the overhead compartment.” Yet she did.

0 thoughts on “Baby on Board

  1. This is an absurdly amusing and accurate account of the roller coaster of this “type” of sick. The next time I am sick, I will not try to explain the myriad experiences and emotions of it to my husband, but simply point wanly at this post, before reclining into my satin pillow, Auntie Mame style.

  2. You are still sick, sister. IN THE HEAD. Go back to bed until that pirouetting soy milk nonsense gets out of your system.
    Charles Nelson Reilly? Really?
    Go back to bed!

  3. I prefer the term insignificant others, myself. I always thought that would make a good story title, along with “Blurred Person Singular.” Now I just have to write the stories.
    Feel better, m’dear.

  4. I, too, used to think that the first day of being sick was kind of fun. But that was back when daytime television was better. Now, I’m bored with being sick by 11am.
    But being the paranoid hypochondriac that I am, I am currently trying to convince myself that the headache and itchy feeling in my nose are a result of the four straight days of rain we’ve had and seasonal allergies rather than some porcine virus they say is coming for us.
    (When I am sick, I always drink Diet Coke or Ginger Ale out of a straw.)

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