Yup, We’re travelling with Kids!

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Sound Familiar?

  • Before you even leave the house you play a little game of ‘Suitcase Tetris’. A fun ten minutes of trying to a) make the car boot magically bigger and/or b) make the amount ‘o crap you have brought reduce to a vaguely manageable dimension.  Sweat and Swearing almost certainly guaranteed.
  • Arrival at the airport will herald three toilet trips, all at different times … ‘but I didn’t need to go a minute ago…’
  • The check-in queue will be mahoosive. But only ever when you have a small child hanging off you, three Boostapacks, five straw hats and someone needs a pee (see point 2). You negotiate half of EasyJet’s orange roped queueing ‘system’, only to have to duck under it all again.
  • You will pass at least one gorgeous, flawless honeymoon couple in matching TOMS, swinging their Louis Vuitton flight bags. They look at you pitifully. Ah, the ignorance of youth!

Just you wait m’dears.  Just you wait.

  • Someone will fall off the escalator.
  • Despite methodical planning, several pre-flight bag checks and clothing choices to ensure maximum comfort with minimum bleepability, something will ALWAYS set off the security alarms.
  • Two body-scans and a bag-check later you’ll realise that someonedidn’t put the portable DVD player in the FLIPPING GREY PLASTIC TRAY. (true story)
  • At least one child will be trodden on (ensuring removal of a jelly shoe) by fellow plane inhabitants actually running to make it to the boarding gate. Folks. You have a seat. For the love of all that is good and holy, CHILL THE HELL OUT.
  • There’ll be a row over the window seat.
  • You will order £30 worth of plane food, and then be told that there is a quota of one sachet of tomato sauce per bacon baguette. Not even the pleading faces of your children will break the stewardesses steely resolve. Children will not eat unsauced sandwiches. The economics of ‘budget airlines’ becomes evidently clear.
  • Airport negotiated, children fed (in a manner of speaking. Crisps and Fruit Shoots. Needs must and, quite frankly, you’re broken) and ensconced with various electronic devices, you finally breathe out.  And make the fatal error of switching on your Kindle.’Mummy, I reallyreallyreallyREALLY need a wee!’

    Just Fantastic.

Read more from Emma over at LifeattheLittleWood.co.uk

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