I just know I'm going to end up with retarded children.

So on Wednesday I was leaving home to come back to Los Angeles. We got to Boston's Logan airport a little bit early for my flight - I was afraid that the rain coming down would switch to freezing rain or sleet. (What are the differences, you ask? Well freezing rain actually starts out as falling snow, which then hits a layer of warm air on the way down that causes it to melt and become rain. Then it passes through a thin layer of cold air that supercools it. When the drops strike frozen surfaces they freeze, forming a thin layer of ice. Sleet is just frozen raindrops which bounce on impact. It's less common.) Anyway, as my parents and I sat at Dunkin Donuts, chatting, I saw an abnormal number of small children around. Sure, I was flying from Boston to Salt Lake at about 5:30 pm, which is prime-time for kiddie travel. It's not like it was a red-eye flight, which the kids should just NOT be on. But still, we were in a damn sea of kids.

Then I got on the plane. There were even more kids on it. I think they were multiplying, like Gremlins in a hot tub. Seriously, I think a few women who got on the plane pregnant came off carrying babies.

Of course sitting next to me was a little shaver with a serious case of ADD and four dead Game Boy batteries. Not a fun combo. I was tired and wanting to sleep. Sadly, the movie was Jackie Chan's "The Tuxedo" - so his mom didn't want to shell out the four dollars for the headset. Hey, I wouldn't want to, either. At least we can agree on that. But I was smart enough to bring spare batteries.

So this kid is squirming and kicking and convulsing - I don't think he'd ever been in a seat belt before. And he didn't grasp the simple fact that since I was four times his size and could break him, that I got the armrest. And somehow he kept kicking me, too, which was just unnecessary.

Then, as small children are oft to do, he just fell fast asleep. Konked out. It was great. I managed to sneak in a short nap, then was able to finish Michael Moore's fantastic Stupid White Men ...and Other Sorry Excuses for the State of the Nation!. If you liked "Bowling for Columbine", then you'll love "Stupid White Men". Then I felt something behind me.

He had a brother sitting behind me.

This little monkey was climbing over the seats and sticking his dirty little mitts between the seats up towards me. I figured their dad was sitting with him behind us, so I really couldn't punch or kick or otherwise disable the small child. What to do?

And then it was too late. The little one next to me woke up. And then he just wouldn't stop moving either.

I was surrounded.

By the time we were on the initial approach to Salt Lake they were both bouncing like that freakin' leprechaun from Lucky Charms. I learned that they were travelling on to Seattle, which made his crazy ranting make a little more sense. See, he saw a church or some building in Salt Lake all lit up, and just started chanting, "Saw the Space Needle! Saw the Space Needle! Saw the Space Needle!" His mom tried to explain they needed to take another plane to get to Seattle, but he wouldn't have it. "Saw the Space Needle! Saw the Space Needle! Saw the Space Needle!" It was horrible.

The brother behind me started in. "I want to go on aircraft. I want to go on aircraft." His dad tried to explain that they would be on another plane shortly, and technically right now they already were on an aircraft.

"I want to go on aircraft. I want to go on aircraft."

"Saw the Space Needle! Saw the Space Needle!"

"I want to go on aircraft."

"Saw the Space Needle!"


Now, I'm not against kids, really. My little cousins Paige and Lindsey are cute as damn buttons. Cuter, even. But I know that since I'm a bastard with a really short fuse I'm going to end up with some little retarded child or something. Payback for all of the evil that I've inflicted.

But since I figure it's a done deal, I can keep writing this website ...

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