The Hughes family doesn't fly a lot.
I know you are thinking that we are rolling in the dough and just living life like a boss. It's easy to see our family jetsetting from one continent to the next as the Scrooge McDucks of 2015.
Seriously, we fly very rarely and when we do it is usually on a bargain Spirit flight. Today was no different.
As we sat at our gate waiting for our flight to Guatemala, I was fortunate enough to sit next to a set of grandparents with overly excitable grandkids. It was adorable how they jumped into their grandparents lap and covered them in kisses. Not so much the kicking me, touching my knee with their hands and throwing their heads back into my lap as I attempted to tweet something witty.
I should also note that I had about 2 hours of sleep the night before and there wasn't even a Starbucks in our terminal. You can imagine my horror as I consumed plain coffee from a random vendor with some sort of weird name instead of my venti vanilla latte.
Without an infusion of caffeine to jumpstart me into the land of the living, I was in a bit of a sour mood.
With each head in my lap and kick to the shin, I mumbled under my breath and continued to read my Jon Acuff book. Of particular interest as I devolved into the Grinch was a chapter talking about how you get more job opportunities in public speaking if you aren't a jerk. Jon Acuff, are you judging me right now? I'm tired and I'm without my latte. I have a right to put on Grump-fest 2015!
Well, finally we boarded our plane and found our seats at the back of the vehicle. To the shock of absolutely no one, we had a family of about 15,000 children and toddlers in the row right in front of us. Among the delightful sounds over the course of the next two and a half hours were the screaming of an infant, and the repetition in various tones of concern, comfort, discipline, and apathy of the name "Sophia" directed toward said infant. Other delightful sounds in the cacophony of unruly kids included the toddler screaming as though he was murdered simply because the flight attendant put his tray in the upright position for take-off, and two other kids yelling and screaming at each other and the joyful vibrations of all of our neighboring seats and they punched, smacked, kicked, and pinched each other as they engaged in raucous horse-play.
This delightful utopian Spirit Airlines experience is repeated every single time that we board a plane, which again, is not often. Every. Single. Time.
At that moment, my mind flashed to the yellow-soaked Spirit website that tried to entice me to purchase my seats just 24 hours earlier. I refused to play their evil game of spending more money for my seat, but in this moment had those seats been labeled "This Seat Is Nowhere Near Screaming & Unruly Kids, In Fact, We Will Encase You In A Cone Of Silence and Ensconce You In Soft Downy Pillows" I would have paid a million dollars for those seats.
My wife Jaci said that she would have actually preferred throngs of snakes on the plane to the screaming mayhem of those children. Cue Samuel L. Jackson.
Yes, as I already admitted, we don't have a million dollars. As noted hundredaires (and occasional thousandaires when the bill companies haven't cashed our checks yet, we lack the McDuck bling to pay a million dollars for safety from the horror of unruly kids.
This is especially trying since our children are virtual angels while traveling. During a regular day at home during the summer, there would be no shortage of bickering over various electronic devices or demands to "stop touching me" before world peace ends in the world on fire. Fourteen hours in a car on a road trip? Golden silence only occasionally interrupted with the singing of an angelic choir.
The finishing touch, however, of any good flight experience, of course, was the consumption of what can only be described as rancid skunk meat by a nearby passenger. The pungent smell of an as yet unidentified meat filled the cabin like the anti-Christmas morning.
I do so thoroughly enjoy those fellow travelers, who, when packing for their several hours trapped in a small confined space with several hundred other passengers at dangerously high altitudes, rummage through their kitchen to find the nastiest smelling rotting flesh that they can find. "Rancid skunk meat? Sweet! That will hit the spot on the plane! I'll be the hit of the plane!"
Please know that your efforts to offend our olfactory senses and induce vomiting are greatly appreciated.
The beautiful thing about flights, however, is that they end. And you get the heck off that nightmare in the sky to step foot into your adventure in your new destination. For us, that is the beautiful land of Guatemala. As we arrived for our week in this beautiful land of volcanoes, awesome coffee, and wonderful people, we are reminded that all of our hellish flying experiences (which would make a great Lifetime Original Movie if anyone is interested in purchasing the rights) were worth going through in order to continue our #HughesSummerAdventures in central America.
After some sleep and some delicious Guatemalan coffee, let the adventure begin! (Just please don't tell the monster baby Sophia where we are staying. Please. I beg you.)
I know you are thinking that we are rolling in the dough and just living life like a boss. It's easy to see our family jetsetting from one continent to the next as the Scrooge McDucks of 2015.
Seriously, we fly very rarely and when we do it is usually on a bargain Spirit flight. Today was no different.
As we sat at our gate waiting for our flight to Guatemala, I was fortunate enough to sit next to a set of grandparents with overly excitable grandkids. It was adorable how they jumped into their grandparents lap and covered them in kisses. Not so much the kicking me, touching my knee with their hands and throwing their heads back into my lap as I attempted to tweet something witty.
I should also note that I had about 2 hours of sleep the night before and there wasn't even a Starbucks in our terminal. You can imagine my horror as I consumed plain coffee from a random vendor with some sort of weird name instead of my venti vanilla latte.
Without an infusion of caffeine to jumpstart me into the land of the living, I was in a bit of a sour mood.
With each head in my lap and kick to the shin, I mumbled under my breath and continued to read my Jon Acuff book. Of particular interest as I devolved into the Grinch was a chapter talking about how you get more job opportunities in public speaking if you aren't a jerk. Jon Acuff, are you judging me right now? I'm tired and I'm without my latte. I have a right to put on Grump-fest 2015!
Well, finally we boarded our plane and found our seats at the back of the vehicle. To the shock of absolutely no one, we had a family of about 15,000 children and toddlers in the row right in front of us. Among the delightful sounds over the course of the next two and a half hours were the screaming of an infant, and the repetition in various tones of concern, comfort, discipline, and apathy of the name "Sophia" directed toward said infant. Other delightful sounds in the cacophony of unruly kids included the toddler screaming as though he was murdered simply because the flight attendant put his tray in the upright position for take-off, and two other kids yelling and screaming at each other and the joyful vibrations of all of our neighboring seats and they punched, smacked, kicked, and pinched each other as they engaged in raucous horse-play.
This delightful utopian Spirit Airlines experience is repeated every single time that we board a plane, which again, is not often. Every. Single. Time.
At that moment, my mind flashed to the yellow-soaked Spirit website that tried to entice me to purchase my seats just 24 hours earlier. I refused to play their evil game of spending more money for my seat, but in this moment had those seats been labeled "This Seat Is Nowhere Near Screaming & Unruly Kids, In Fact, We Will Encase You In A Cone Of Silence and Ensconce You In Soft Downy Pillows" I would have paid a million dollars for those seats.
My wife Jaci said that she would have actually preferred throngs of snakes on the plane to the screaming mayhem of those children. Cue Samuel L. Jackson.
Yes, as I already admitted, we don't have a million dollars. As noted hundredaires (and occasional thousandaires when the bill companies haven't cashed our checks yet, we lack the McDuck bling to pay a million dollars for safety from the horror of unruly kids.
This is especially trying since our children are virtual angels while traveling. During a regular day at home during the summer, there would be no shortage of bickering over various electronic devices or demands to "stop touching me" before world peace ends in the world on fire. Fourteen hours in a car on a road trip? Golden silence only occasionally interrupted with the singing of an angelic choir.
The finishing touch, however, of any good flight experience, of course, was the consumption of what can only be described as rancid skunk meat by a nearby passenger. The pungent smell of an as yet unidentified meat filled the cabin like the anti-Christmas morning.
I do so thoroughly enjoy those fellow travelers, who, when packing for their several hours trapped in a small confined space with several hundred other passengers at dangerously high altitudes, rummage through their kitchen to find the nastiest smelling rotting flesh that they can find. "Rancid skunk meat? Sweet! That will hit the spot on the plane! I'll be the hit of the plane!"
Please know that your efforts to offend our olfactory senses and induce vomiting are greatly appreciated.
The beautiful thing about flights, however, is that they end. And you get the heck off that nightmare in the sky to step foot into your adventure in your new destination. For us, that is the beautiful land of Guatemala. As we arrived for our week in this beautiful land of volcanoes, awesome coffee, and wonderful people, we are reminded that all of our hellish flying experiences (which would make a great Lifetime Original Movie if anyone is interested in purchasing the rights) were worth going through in order to continue our #HughesSummerAdventures in central America.
After some sleep and some delicious Guatemalan coffee, let the adventure begin! (Just please don't tell the monster baby Sophia where we are staying. Please. I beg you.)
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