March 18, 2004 - Thursday
I was on a plane today stting next to a little girl, perhaps 3 or so, and her father. She was in the middle and her father in the window seat. She was squirming around, playing with the phone, and wrinkling things from the seat pocket and, at first, I mostly just silently empathized with the father, not particularly minding the girl's behavior all that much. I've seen most of it before and, like the father, have tried to curb a three-year-olds behavior on a plane. But as the flight went on I got increasingly frustration, but not with the girl. In fact, she eventually settled down. It was the father, who was trying to slept during this late afternoon flight , that started to bother me. It was his complete disregard for the interests of the daughter, the complete failure to direct her in any positive way or even respond to her quest for attention that was troubling. Sure, kids are relentless about that, but a plane ride is a boring time with nowhere to go and nothing to do and this guy wasn't even trying. I came close to saying something to him at the end like "my wife always brings a few dollar store toys to give our kids something to do," but I never did.

Thankfully, this trip is a short one for me. I'll be home on Saturday, two days from now, and that's what I told Harry when I called during a layover around dinnertime.
"I'll see you in two days."
"Two days?"
"Yeah, I won't see you tomorrow, but I'll be home the next day, Saturday"
"That's three days," said Harry, observing that I was already gone and that today would be the first day.
"Well, you're right Harry," I said. I tried to explain about half days, that I was home part of today and that I'll be home for part of Saturday, but I guess the important thing it that he's thinking.


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