We travelled back to Ireland yesterday and the journey was utterly hideous. Huge queues in Brussels airport meant that we were still edging through security at the moment our flight was due to take off. The Princess was difficult, casting herself on the ground sobbing thus creating the very real risk that we would lose our place in the mob or queue. Mr. Waffle was grinding his teeth and the boys were howling. When we got to security, we had this liquid in plastic bags business and we had to fold the buggy and put it through the machine and I had to take off my boots (stupid footwear choice). Ah yes, the war on tourism, continues.
Safely through security we legged it to our flight, me carrying herself, Mr. Waffle pushing the boys and our mountain of handluggage. Once on the plane (yay!), the flight was full without a single empty seat. We were sitting in 3A, 3B and accross the aisle 3D. We can’t sit together as there are only 4 oxygen masks for every three seats. I asked the matronly immaculately dressed woman in 3C whether she would like to sit by the window “No, I prefer the aisle and I’ve already had to move to accommodate you”. Not entirely sure why this should be the case but it meant that we had this large cranky lady sitting in the middle of our family group. At one level I sympathise, but would it have killed her to have smiled? For the duration of the flight, I had to keep Michael and the Princess from disturbing her (near impossible) and Mr. Waffle and I had to keep passing supplies across her, which she clearly enjoyed immensely. If it hadn’t been for a lovely woman in the row behind distracting Michael and the Princess with the odd game of peekaboo, I might have lost my life.
While I was balefully contemplating the large newspaper reading, perfectly coiffed, mohair clad, ray of sunshine at the end of the row, something caught my eye. Dear God in heaven, oh yes, those were enormous lice wending their merry way up and down the Princess’s fringe. My immediate comfort was the knowledge that they were very likely to be attracted to the large mohair lady.
The flight finally ended and the mohair lady turned to the Princess and said “you were such a good little girl on the flight, would you like this?” and gave her an enormous gingerbread heart and I felt so mean for judging her and also for probably giving her lice for Christmas.
We are now holed up with my marvellous in-laws for the Christmas season. It is babysitting heaven here. And following a full inspection of the Princess’s head which was teeming with life, we have bought anti-lice shampoo (“Lice n’ easy”) and a fine tooth comb. I also regret to report that adults do get head lice.
I would like to wish you all a safe journey, if you are travelling, and a wonderful and louse free Christmas. You know that they only like clean hair, don’t you?
