The Thermos Incident

Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached our cruising altitude of 36000 feet.

Perfect.  I'm going to give this squirm worm on my lap a snack now and let him crawl all over me, I thought.


The plane ride was cramped, but having secured a window seat for Brixton and I, I felt like we had an extra inch or two that let him cause chaos away from the poor gal in the middle seat who was last on the plane and clearly sad to have to sit next to us. 

I was organized, at least.  Snacks were ready, thermos filled with berry smoothie.  And snack time it was, because after snack time, comes sleepy time, the best time.  

Brixton helped himself to a smorgasbord of goldfish, puffs, pretzels, and graham bunnies.  He ate, then ate some more. He fed mama.  I declined, until he force fed me.  Then I ate some just to keep him from doing the dolphin scream (which he did anyway about 5-6 times).  

After so many salty snacks, I was certain little guy must be a tad thirsty, so I reached for the thermos.  It's a thermos I bought a few months ago at Target for its leak-proof properties.  And it keeps things cool.  Or warm.  

It has a little button on it that pops up the time and exposes the straw.  I pushed the button.

PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSH.

That was the sound the berry smoothie made as it shot out of the straw and directly into my right eye.  Not just into my eye, but all over my face.  And my hair, and my shirt.  And Brixton's hair and shirt.  

I sat there for a moment, stunned, embarrassed and above all, blind.  It hit me right in the eye and it hurt.  I considered beginning to cry for a second, because that just felt right and maybe someone would feel bad and clean up the mess for me.  But my mom and Brendan weren't there, so I was out of luck on that one.  

Instead, I just started laughing.  What else could I do?  I was stuck on a plane with a lap child and I was just assaulted by a smoothie. I was dripping in purple.  And apparently no one else was coming to my rescue so why not just enjoy the moment?

I reached around for the first thing I could find, which was Brixton's beloved teddy bear lovey.  Then my new scarf I got at the Urban Outfitter's sale.  I wiped off the smoothie and all the makeup from my right eye.  Since my sight was restored, I looked at Brixton, who had smoothie dripping from his hair.  He was still stunned.  He hadn't moved.  But when we made eye contact, we both smiled, like whoa. 

The girl next to me?  She didn't see a thing.  Or at least she acted like she didn't.  In fact, no one noticed.  Apparently the ascending plane created a lot of pressure in the thermos and when I released the top, it just basically blew up.  

For your pleasure:

 

 I wish the picture could have shown you the smoothie on my face, down my shirt, on my shirt, on Brixton's hair and face.  But you get the idea, right?  My kid looked like a dirtball the rest of the day.  With a dirtball mama.  

Now all I have to do is show the thermos to Brixton, pop it open and say psssssssssssssh and he smiles.  It made an impression on us, that's for sure. 

PS. The fabulous formatting of this post is thanks to Blogger.  I spent 15 minutes trying to get the font size right, but it just wants to be lame. Thanks, Blogger.  (I hate you right now).