Kids at Geneva airport
Simply Sunday. There are kids and kids. I had a flight in hell the other day. In all my years of flying I have never, ever, had to use earplugs. I did on this flight (quite interesting working out how to use them!).
This is a tale of two boys, aged around two. One is playing with a highly-simple iPad, loves it, is totally enthralled, is enraptured the entire flight. The other boy is in the middle seats of the front row with mummy and daddy.
Mummy was making a fuss on the air-bridge, getting everything out of the baby buggie, and then trying to barge her way down through the crowded queue on the air-bridge. Excuse me, excuse me. (Why? The plane would not leave without her).
When she, and daddy and son, arrived in their seats there was an entire pre-school exercise of unpacking building blocks, pencils (he is far too young) and books (ditto).
Then mummy, who by now you will realise is a nervy organiser, and is probably another five months pregnant, handed entire responsibility to daddy. What happens? Screams, yells, more screams for hours and hours on end.
Tip for today for flying parents. Try to control your own nerves, and PLEASE think of adults around you.
