Holiday blog: Oblivious like a fence post: Part 2

On the plane. London Gatwick to Vancouver. Ten hour flight. Feeling smug as have paid an extra £36 to book seats in advance. Row 5 for heaven's sake! ROW 5! Not Row 47 with no leg room next to the smell of toilets and last to receive luke-warm cardboard lunch.

In Row 4, directly in front of us, is a young family. Mum, dad, baby and toddler. I am very patient. There is squawking and wriggling. I am sympathetic. I am very patient. 

The toddler throws his toy car at my head. Then his cup.

The baby drops his dummy 27 times over the back of the chair. I contort my cramped body 27 times to pick it up. I am very patient.

The mother of said infant has a hair-do like a pineapple. It impedes my view of the overhead screen. Okay, so it doesn't take much concentration to watch 'Parental Guidance' (The irony doesn't escape me...) but I get crick in neck endeavouring to see it. I am very patient.

Then mother stands up. My view of the screen is completely obscured. I give her an icy British stare. I clear my throat. She is oblivious like a fence post. I say (politely)  'Excuse me, I can't see the screen.' 

Mother mutters a grudging apology, thinking 'intolerant bitch!' under her breath.

She sits down. The pineapple impedes my view of the overhead screen.

I wish for a pair of garden shears.