Staring out the small plane window, Carl tried to resign himself to his fate. Just a few more hours of discomfort, and he’d finally be home. He told himself to stay positive. He’d close his eyes, listen to calming music, and pretend he was relaxing on a quiet beach far away from work stress. But his small moment of peace didn’t last long—it was quickly ruined by the mischievous kicks of the young boy sitting directly behind him.
As the cabin doors latched shut with a dull thud and flight attendants finished their final safety checks, Carl felt a sharp, forceful jolt hit his lower back. He turned around to see the seven-year-old boy swinging his small legs wildly, repeatedly kicking the rough fabric of Carl’s seatback without a care in the world.
The boy’s mother stayed focused on her magazine, completely ignoring her son’s disruptive behavior. With another hard kick hitting his spine, Carl took a slow breath, filling his lungs with the stale airplane air. His patience was wearing thinner and thinner with every repetitive thud of the boy’s dirty sneakers against his seat.
