Kids on commercial flights

timwinters said:
I view this quite similarly to going out to dinner at an expensive restaurant only to be seated next to (or near) a table with a kid under 3 or 4. First I ask for a different table while being seated, if one isn't available I'll sit down, size up the situation, and at the first scream or outburst I walk out.
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As the parent of a four year old, I do NOT blame you one bit. It's my job not to put my kid in a situation he isn't ready to for, and if he does slip up, it's my job to get him the hell out of there.
 
PPC1052 said:
As the parent of a four year old, I do NOT blame you one bit. It's my job not to put my kid in a situation he isn't ready to for, and if he does slip up, it's my job to get him the hell out of there.
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Extremely reasonable way of thinking about things. Wish all parents were like you.
 
Some years ago, our older one was 2 1/2 and the younger one still nursing, both my wife and I fell asleep on a SAS flight. The boy apparently woke up, got bored and escaped from his middle seat. Like in a thriller, I wake up a while later and the kid is 'gone'. Quickly found him sitting with a SAS flight attendant on a blanket in the aft galley. They had equipped him with crayons, paper and a bag of animal crackers.
 
weilke said:
Some years ago, our older one was 2 1/2 and the younger one still nursing, both my wife and I fell asleep on a SAS flight. The boy apparently woke up, got bored and escaped from his middle seat. Like in a thriller, I wake up a while later and the kid is 'gone'. Quickly found him sitting with a SAS flight attendant on a blanket in the aft galley. They had equipped him with crayons, paper and a bag of animal crackers.
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That would get a very strong letter of appreciation to the airline from me (after the strong thanks to the FA and crew).
 
PPC1052 said:
As the parent of a four year old, I do NOT blame you one bit. It's my job not to put my kid in a situation he isn't ready to for, and if he does slip up, it's my job to get him the hell out of there.
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There were a few times when get got the hell out. Walk into the restaurant with the little one, and as the hostess is showing us to the table, she drops on the floor on her back and just starts wailing. I look at the hostess, say "I'm sorry" as we scoop her up, and head on out the door. OK, pick up pizza on the way home instead of a nice dinner, but there would (and were) much better days.
 
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