Airport Adventures

I took a two hour flight earlier this week, all alone with baby A. I was quite apprehensive about how I would manage alone, but I met a whole bunch of people who helped ease my nerves a great deal 

• The C-Suite executive who offered baby A some very expensive magazines, which I politely refused, for she knows not the difference between a Wharton journal and Bombay Times.
• The classic neighbourhood aunty who gave me 5 minutes of unsolicited advice about raising children from whom I slipped away on the pretext of checking the flight status.
• A young mother of a slightly older child, who reassured me that that phase I am in now, is way better than hers.
• A group of college kids, obviously hungover, craving for some sleep. The look of horror on their faces was priceless to the point of being funny when I walked alongside them towards the boarding gates. They sneakily tried to check which flight I was taking by throwing furtive glances at my boarding pass / hand baggage tags.
• The genuinely nice teenager who patiently kept picking up her toy every time she dropped it, so much so, it became a game of sorts!
• A chic lady at the coffee shop with a Fendi bag, doused in the finest of Issey Miyake fragrances. She looked disdainfully at my dark circles, far from perfect hair, unkempt toe nails. I felt like an old hag. She then ruined her perfect image by asking for an “Expresso” and I had the last laugh ;-)

I had such a swell time observing people’s reaction to the presence of a woman travelling alone with a baby, but there has to be a rotten egg hidden somewhere right? A pervert who would crane his neck any length to catch a glimpse of a woman breast feeding. Hmph!