“Children need to move their legs. I am certainly not going to discipline my daughter for experiencing normal sensory restlessness just to accommodate an irritable stranger. If you don’t like it, call the purser and move.”
“The flight is completely full, ma’am,” I replied, my eyes meeting hers without yielding an inch. “There are no empty seats.”
She popped the earbud back into her ear, tapped the tablet screen, and looked back at her show:
“Then turn around and stop harassing my family.”
Behind her mother’s arm, the ten-year-old girl caught my eye.
Her lips curved into a tiny, grotesque smirk of pure, unearned entitlement. She pulled her knees back toward her chest, paused for two deliberate seconds to ensure I was watching, and slammed both sneakers forward with all her weight!
BANG.
The jolt rattled my teeth in my skull.
For the next two hours, the assault did not abate.
