Last week I went to Florida to see my parents, my big little brother, and my little big sister. After a week of arguing with the family and a whole lot of noise, I got on the plane back to New York City in hopes to read my new sexy book, Fifty Shades of Grey, hide my lady boner, and RELAX. I got an aisle seat in the front row with some extra leg room, so things were looking pretty damn great.
The last person to frantically stumble onto the plane was a very tired-looking thirty-something woman with a three-year-old boy and a baby under the age of one. The woman sat right across the aisle from me and, of course, only bought two seats for the three of them. I thought, “Shit. Here. We. Go. ”
To my surprise, these kids did not make a peep the entire flight. I know because I watched them intensely while reading my sexy book about bondage. Wait, that’s super creepy. I was so impressed with how quiet they were, and I was able to read my book and fantasize in peace. I did notice that the three-year-old ate a TON of candy, chugged a coke, and downed an entire big bag of Doritos, but I thought, “if it keeps the kid quiet, BRAVO!”
As we were in our final descent, I thought, “Wow. Maybe there is hope to having kids and having a life.” I started imagining babies running around me. Laughing, cheerful, adorable babies. A smile came across my face, and I looked over at the kids longingly. Just then, the three-year-old projectile vomited a bucket-worth of puke that landed about a centimeter away from my leg. It would not stop coming. This sent the other shitty baby into a screaming fit. As I watched the poor mother wiping her child’s vomit with her own shirt that she’d probably have to wear for the next few hours, I thought, “If that’s not the perfect form of birth control, I don’t know what is.”
Lindsey Gentile is an actor, writer, comedienne, and all-around gal-about-town. Every Thursday, she reports from the front lines of single life in NYC. Check out her website HERE. Need more Big City Siren? No problem.
