Your Space is My Space: Be more considerate of it


Economy seating on an airplane is way too close for comfort. You know it’s a tight space when you have to dig under your seatmate’s thigh for your own seatbelt buckle.

Then there are some things that cannot be avoided like when your child poops in their diaper. Someone is going to get wind of the smell, before, during or after the diaper change. Additionally, I am certain that food brought onto the plane only smells good when it's belongs to you. Mix in a little turbulence with Wendy’s fries, a diaper change, your seatmate’s breath, warm recycled air and you might as well know where your barf bag is - just in case.

Essentially we are all sharing the same PERSONAL space. I imagine the job of a flight attendant can be physically constraining. But there has to be a better way to get the snacks off the bottom of cart without everyone to their rear knowing what color underwear they have on, or that they can touch their toes without bending their knees.

And what is it with people listening to their music through their headsets so loud that I could write down the lyrics to a song I’ve never heard before?

With a narrow aisle between us, I knew without my glasses on, that a pregnant woman was reading an article about how to keep “The Big O” from slipping away. First off I was embarrassed for reading the title and hoped no one (in our space) saw me read the title that they had just read also. Secondly, she isn’t going to have the time or energy for that anyway. Her next article read, “How to Flatten Your Abs”, she isn’t going to have time for that either and even if she does, it’s never gonna happen. Just go ahead and throw that magazine away when you get done visiting fantasy land. Better yet pass it on to a nun, she’ll find it just as useful.

So what’s the morale of this story? Wait there’s more…

After about 24 hours had passed, my six year old son comes to me and says he has some bad news. He says I’m going to be mad but it was just an accident. I’m asking what did he break and he just shakes his head no like it is much worse than anything he’s ever done. My eyes get big but I listen. In his roundabout way he tells me that someone on the plane sitting in front of us was looking at a magazine that had a naked girl in it. He says, “She was all the way naked”. He says he looked at it for “awhile” and when he looked again it was gone. So I’m wondering how long did he really look at it? While we thought he was contently looking at Cartoon Network was he really gawking at what he could see between the seats? I’m glad that I’ve taught him to know that he can tell me anything. He gave me a hug afterward as if not telling me had been burdening him. I told him thank you for letting me know. While I also imagined, had I have known what he saw then, that airport security would have been waiting for me when the plane landed because I ‘went there’. I would have transformed into 'The Incredible Mom' and accused the horny man of being a pedophile while throwing him to the front of the plane.

The lesson here is for people to be more considerate. First off, if I’m reading a book, I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t care about you skipping off to your vacation when I am returning home from mine. Secondly, if you can smell yourself, I can smell you too. Peanut, pretzel and Biscotti breath is not fresh breath. Again, don’t talk to me. Third off, if you can’t hear anything but your music, it’s too loud. The fourth, try to eat your greasy bacon cheese burger and fries before you get on the plane. My fifth and final TRUST ME - Mother to reader - Don’t stare at the mother who has to change a stinky diaper or whose baby is crying. It’s not her fault and your glare is either going to make her feel worse or ask you, “What the hell are YOU looking at”?

Sporadically Yours,