As promised, here is the post about plane travel with Rocco. If any of you have ever spent four-plus hours on a plane with a three foot tall, belligerent drunk, then you can skip this post because you know exactly how it goes.
We ordered Rocco a Happy Meal at the airport but he mistook the Magic 8 Ball toy for something else so yes, that was my child at the airport brandishing this…
and yelling, “BOMB! BOMB! BOMB!”
They let us on the plane anyway.
The plane ride began with a barrage of questions even before the plane started moving. “Why are we on a plane, Mom? Why is there a car outside? Why is there another car outside? Why is the floor tilted up? Why is it still tilted up? Why am I sitting down, Mom? Why are you sitting down? Why is that window there? Why do we want to see outside? Why is it pretty out there? Why are you putting your head phones on? Mom, why are your head phones on? Mom? Mom? MOM??? WHY ARE YOUR HEADPH—Mom, why are you shushing me, Mom?”
So that was fun.
I decided to let Rocco have his first piece of gum this trip, to help with take-off and landing. I took a piece from the pack and set it on my lap while I explained how gum works (i.e. chew, don’t swallow). Then I returned to listening attentively to the safety video. After a couple minutes, Rocco took the gum off my lap. “I just want to hold it,” he explained. Okay, I told him, but we’re waiting until the plane starts moving to chew it.
I looked over a minute later and he had cracked the wrapper open. “I just want to peek at it,” he explained. Okay, I told him again, but we’re waiting until the plane starts moving to chew it.
One minute later and he had removed the wrapper. “I just want to see it better,” he explained. Okay, I told him, but we’re waiting until the plane moves to chew it.
A minute later I looked over at him and the piece of gum was clearly in his mouth, with one little white corner sticking out. “ROOO–CCO!” I said. He looked up at me innocently and asked, “Ih duh pane moobing, Mom?”
Another minute later and I looked over to see him eating Bugles. I told him he needed to spit out his gum in order to eat, but he explained proudly that he already ate his gum.
And then the plane started moving.
If those plane windows opened, I swears I would have jumped out and just walked home at that point.
But they didn’t, so I was the one sitting next to Rocco an hour later when he began using his seatbelt as a storage device for Gummy Bears. We got them all put away, except a green one we couldn’t find. To curb the trauma over the lost green Gummy Bear we gave him some Sixlets, which he dumped into his shirt and rolled up, singing, “Special deliiiiivery!” Then he unrolled his shirt and all the Sixlets went a-rolling too. We recovered most of those and decided to put his candy away for awhile. He remained undaunted because he still had a hand to insert into his mouth–the same hand that was in his mouth for 90% of the weekend.
His hand now smells like my headgear smelled in junior high (the one I was too lazy to ever rinse clean).
But somehow we made it to our destination and as they say, all’s well that ends well. Especially when it rear ends well.
Yup. The missing green gummy bear.
Still not as gross as Rocco’s hand.