Wednesday, 1 August 2007
THE FLIGHT...The Aftermath
Well i'm sure you're all wondering whether my flight home with two babies on my own was as hellish as I had expected. The answer is yes...and no! The very worst thing that happened occurred ten minutes or so before touchdown, when a pale looking Egg violently vomited twice - once on me and once on himself. Luckily I managed to grab Bacon the bear out of the way in time, so it was only the two of us who smelled faintly of sick when Jay met us outside the arrival gates an hour or so later.
Aside from that it was only my poor bladder and my sore breasts which paid the price, as both were put to the test during the seven hour flight. Dumpie basically fed the entire way, regardless of whether he was dozing or not! I must have run out of milk somewhere over the Atlantic, but that didn't stop him from guzzling and nuzzling like a drunk little piglet the entire way regardless. In fact, if i even tried to gently ease his drooling limp mouth off me at any time, myself (and the entire cabin) were subjected to such loud wails and screams that I had no choice but to put him back on and glance up apologetically at the passengers bold enough to be staring.
As for my poor bladder, well I'd watch the trolley-dolly's dole out icy cokes and gin and tonics to those around me, salivating for some liquid. But all I'd allow myself were tiny sips of tepid tap water from a plastic cup which a kindly steward had placed precariously in my one remaining hand early on in the flight. I knew that one toilet visit would be the most I could hope for and thus I got more and more dehydrated as the flight went on, noticing the build up of the most awful headache in my liquid-parched brain.
Alas, I got so desperate at one point that I positioned Dumpie (with all all the finesse of a bomb handler) in my chair, did up the seatbelt and tore off to the loo. Amazingly he was still there and asleep when I returned, and I was sorely tempted to slink off and go sit in an empty seat somewhere. However I can't complain. Thanks to the judicious administrations of a wee bit of 'Gravol' upon entering the aircraft, both boys appeared 'out of it' for most of the flight, and the disapprovingly, raised eyebrows of those observing Egg and Dumps open little mouths as I spooned in the medicine, were well worth it in my opinion.
It has to be said that given their good behaviour there was little, if any, need for the reactions displayed by a nearby couple who 'tut-tutted' the entire way, commented on my mothering skills throughout (as if I were not there), and would snarl, 'Shshshsh!' in unison if Dumpie so much as made a wimper. Saying that, I suppose the rather unattractive obese couple (he a good twenty years older than she) were simply annoyed that I had caught them early on trying to make hanky-panky in their economy class seats…he having guided her hand to his nether-regions before silently instructing her to have a bit of a fiddle. It really doesn't bear mentioning.
At any rate, I'll end this by saying that every torturous hour was worth the lovely time we had back in Toronto….and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. (But I hope I don't have to!)