Ambush

Every time we travel by air, I practice the art of ambush. We have just returned from our spring break trip, during which, once again, I had to use these skills.

We boarded the plane early in the processional, right after the announcement for those traveling with small children to come forward. We made our way down the skinny aisle to our scattered assigned seats--all five of us separated from one another. I sent Daniel to one seat, Nathan to another, and Eric sat down in yet another and put Stephanie on his lap for the moment. Then I stood next to him near the aisle, waiting to ambush the unsuspecting passenger assigned to seat 14B. As well as the passenger in 15B. And 15C. Hoping to trade...

Of course, it's not usually too hard to find some takers. Especially if you hand them a few diapers, wipes, and noise-making toys and give them the option of staying in their assigned seat next to your 2-year-old. But I just think, if I'm the one making seating arrangements for the flight, shouldn't I at least get a discount?

On one of our flights, I sealed the deal for our last needed seating change with this question: "Would you like to have a lovely child-free seat right over there?"  The nice man quickly agreed and went off to what I can only assume was a very quiet and restful flight. I was a wee bit jealous, in fact.