Flying Home from New Orleans

I do not like to fly.

I do not like the hassle of the airports.

I do not like the fact that the seats and surrounding personal space has shrunk since the days I worked in the airline industry and loved loved loved to fly.

This trip to and from New Orleans was better than some I've had recently. (If you're not TSA pre-approved, I recommend it. Highly)

Here's a quick recap of my flight home.

Get on the plane, get to my row. 

No one seated, not even across the aisle. 

Cool. 

Open the overhead storage bin. 

There's a bag in there as big as a tank. 

Really? 

REALLY? 

A whole lot bigger than what is "supposed" to be allowed as carry on, and over my row - where I'm the only person.

With one hand on my hip (I was not feeling all that great if you remember), I said, loudly (as loudly as I could considering I didn't have much of a voice), "Really? Someone didn't have room in their own storage bin for this steamtrunk? Really? What the hell?" 

And proceeded to search for a spot to place my laptop.

Steaming.

Then my seatmates show up.

Husband, Wife, Baby.

I'm not a big baby person.

Husband sat next to me, baby in lap.

I tried not to look at the baby 'cause I knew he/she would start screaming the minute I did.

But.

He/she managed to lock eyes with me and gurgled and grinned.

I couldn't help but reach out with a finger to stroke that soft sweet innocent face.

Baby grabbed finger and held on until he (Jonathan) fell asleep about 30 minutes later.

Daddy: "He likes you."

Me: "I like him"

Not a bad flight after all.