Sorry to break it to all the other parents out there, but my toddler is, objectively speaking, the cutest child in the world. She is an absolute cherub, a delight and a privilege to be around – especially in the economy-minus-class cabin of a cramped transatlantic flight when she is belting out Twinkle Twinkle Little Star at the top of her lungs for the fourth time in a row while everyone else is trying to get some sleep.
OK, maybe not then. Even with my besotted-parent goggles on, I am fully aware that being forced into close proximity to other people’s children is no fun. Particularly on an aeroplane. Heck, being in close proximity to your own children on a flight isn’t fun. I’m still recovering from my recent flight en famille to the UK – highlights of which included my toddler singing every song she knows, then announcing that she was going to throw up just as the plane started to descend. Luckily for everyone on the flight, she waited until the taxi ride to vomit.
