Dear Kid,

Airplanes are interesting places.

As you probably know, the size of the seats has shrunk by 408% over the last few years, while the size of travelers has expanded even moreso. This does not make for a delightful travel experience (and by “delightful” I mean “roomy”).

I feel like an accordion trying to unsquish after a night of crazy polka music. I can’t imagine how people who are less vertically challenged than I am manage it.

In addition, the in-flight beverage service has slowed to a crawl. By which I mean that while I brought water on board with me, I didn’t bring a diet coke, and quite frankly this is a flight that requires diet coke. The flight attendants seem more concerned with the flight operation than with my personal particular need for a diet coke. Clearly a case of misplaced priorities.

Being the lady that I am, I am sitting here stoically, waiting calmly. Not fussing. Just fading a little on the inside.

Fact: There is no place on an airplane to charge an electronic device

Airtravel used to be much more elegant... DearKidLoveMom.comAirplane travel used to be an elegant(ish) experience. One would dress up for the occasion. Stewardesses (in those days they were all female and called stewardesses) seemed to live only to bring joy and beverages to passengers. (There was no such thing as diet coke in those days, but I can’t figure out how to fault the airlines for that.)

In those days, you weren’t just given a drink. You got a Full Meal. And snacks. And refills.

On the downside, there was a smoking section in the back of the plane (and by “back of the plane” I mean the entire cabin smelled of smoke) and if you wanted to go to the restroom you had to walk through the blue haze of accumulated cigarette smoke to get there.

On the plus side, in those days you could recline your seat more than a quarter of an inch without ending up in the lap of the person behind you.

And the seats were designed for people (rather than sardines) to sit in.

Do I sound nostalgic? I can’t quite decide whether I miss the Good Ol’ Days or whether I’m happy in jeans and a t-shirt.

Perhaps once I unfold and regain my more-or-less-normal shape, I’ll decide.

Love, Mom