"If I wring little necks, surely I would get an acquittal..."

I am not a parent. (Mom and Dad, I can hear you breathing an sigh of relief. I know you were worried.)

Nor do I intend to be one in the foreseeable future. I understand that this makes me uniquely unqualified to comment on the parenting habits of others (exception: my own parents) or to offer my thoughts on their disciplinary choices, no matter how poor they might seem. When a little urchin is being monstrous in public while their parent coos "Oh little muffinface, I do so wish you'd behave," I commend myself on phasing out babysitting from my job list.

So you can understand the physical pain I was in trying to restrain myself today while seated on the plane behind the most heinous genetic mistake ever produced. This child did not discern between happy screams and sad screams, and produced both at full volume for the entire journey while his mother smiled adoringly. The kid ran up and down the aisles, pausing only to grope my leg and knock over my drink, hollering "GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY." He greeted me with a shrill "Hello!!!" at the moment I had just drifted to sleep. And he hurled Matchbox cars across the cabin without a single comment from his mother that this behavior might not be socially acceptable for a five-year old who needs his diaper changed in public.

At one point I was so close to saying "I'm really trying to sleep, could you please put a muzzle on your gremlin?" that I could taste it. But I didn't. And I am hoping that, for this great act of mercy and kindness, Zeus will smile on me when I have my little accident, and bless it with the communications power of a bunny rabbit.

Seville update soon.