Yesterday we flew the friendly skies. Although the skies were friendly, Mr. Southwest Ticket Counter Supervisor was not quite as lovely.
Upon checking in, well before our departure time, we requested a courtesy document for Tobe to escort the children and me to the gate. Immediately we were told this is not possible, to which we asked to speak to a supervisor. Mr. Supervisor listened to our very politely stated request, turned to me, and then ever so impolitely said, "You can't handle it by yourself?" with the meanest sneer I have ever seen.
I wonder what he would have done should someone speak to his wife/mother/daughter/niece/granny/any female he might know in such a way.
Fortunately my husband displayed great restraint and again politely asked, "Have you ever done it?"
Mr. Supervisor claimed that indeed he had. Although I wanted to call him on this claim, considering he was no less than 45 and he would have had to have small children quite late in life to experience post 9-11 security measures (And besides what man travels alone with his two small children??), I let it go. I figured getting detained by airport security would only put a damper on our day of travel and probably wasn't the best example for my children. Fortunately Mr. Supervisor printed us a courtesy document and grudgingly passed it along to Tobe.
We cleared security with minimal issue, only to be stopped and questioned that indeed Evelyn's socks were merely socks and not shoes we had forgotten to remove (She was sporting the baby socks that look like Mary Jane shoes). Again I refrained from saying that we had planted a shoe bomb on our sweet eight month old in hopes of destroying a 45 minute commuter flight.
The children and I boarded the plane which is always a comical experience. Because Southwest felt like it was a good idea to change preboarding policy and now allow families with small children to board after Group A (meaning 60 people are already on board) rather than before, I had to encourage Isaac to continue walking down the aisle while lugging two bags and a rather large suitcase with Evelyn riding in the Bjorn. I sure appreciated how everyone commented on the cuteness of my children, yet didn't offer to help. Thanks again.
We finally crossed over into the great state of Arkansas and made a safe landing. I had sent up many prayers during our hour flight that some kind person would offer to help us deplane. Fortunately a nice gentleman stopped and asked what he could do to help me. My faith in mankind was restored and we deplaned with little incident (I am considering Isaac walking into the cockpit rather than exiting a plane a "little" incident. However, in these high security level days I would not suggest allowing your child to do this because it is not well received.).
Upon greeting my parents at the airport, I swore I was not flying alone with the children again until they are sulking teenagers who can cart their own stuff while I read a gossip magazine on the plane rather than attempting to retrieve tossed toys with my foot from the middle of the aisle.
Yet I might see if ol Mr. Supervisor wants to bring them to Arkansas the next time since he is quite capable of flying alone with babies.