After a few minutes, he came up with a perfect, clever plan to get back at them. He quickly waved a flight attendant over. “Excuse me,” Carl said politely when she arrived. “Could I please have a cup of ice-cold water, as cold as you can make it?”
“Of course, sir,” the attendant replied with a kind smile, heading to the plane’s galley. Carl waited patiently, his revenge plan fully formed in his mind. When the attendant returned, she handed him a small plastic cup filled with icy cold water. Carl thanked her and held the cup carefully, getting ready to execute his plan.
As the plane flew smoothly through the sky, Carl’s body tensed with anticipation. The cold from the cup seeped into his fingers, and he glanced back quickly to see the boy still grinning, his feet ready to kick again. The mother was still buried in her magazine, completely unaware of what was about to happen.
Carl took a deep breath, steadying himself for what he was about to do. Timing was everything. He waited as tiny condensation droplets slid down the cold cup onto his hand.
