So we made our way to the new gate to check in there.
I
set up Jada and Aaron not far from the ticket desk and then got in line
to get our new seats. Two ahead of us, a mom traveling with two small
kids was trying to do the same thing as I and was not having much luck.
When it was my turn, I asked to be seated with my kids and was somewhat
coldly informed by the harried attendant that the flight was pretty
full, she wasn't sure if she could help me, and at any rate the mom
ahead of me had to be taken care of first. With the detached tiredness
of a dad who has spent an entire week with his own kids, I replied (with
no trace of wavering), "Fine by me. I would actually prefer to be kept
seated separate from my kids. But for the sake of the other
passengers, you might want to try to keep us together."I then noticed that the flight's pilot was standing next to the attendant, and that his name was also Aaron. I asked him if he was flying the plane today and he said yes. As if on cue, Aaron and Jada got into a fight, and Aaron started crying, and I told the guy, "You have another Aaron on the flight, the one you hear over there," and then pointed in the direction of my howling boy. A woman seated near the kids caught my attention and said, "He's crying" (thanks for stating the obvious), and I coolly replied, "Yes, I'm aware," with a grin on my face as if to suggest "there is a possibility I will get to not have to sit next to him for a five-hour flight."
You know how the story ends. The attendant got us seats together.
The rest of the day was uneventful. With the longer day, we ended up eating my packed lunch before we got on the plane, and bought some other food to eat on the plane. Aaron went from picking fights to crying to being loopy to being asleep. (I had rousted him up earlier that morning, so he was feeling the sleep deprivation.) Soon enough, we were home in Philly and blissfully reuniting with Amy. The kids went to bed with no argument. It's good to be home.
