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A few weeks ago my family of four boarded a cross country
flight from Chicago to San Francisco for a week of nature and family
visits. We splurged on a ticket for our
baby, as even on the best of days he pretty much acts like an octopus on
steroids. That boy can wriggle.
We boarded without incident and all were looking forward to
the trip away. The seat configurations
were such that my baby had the window to accommodate his car seat, I was in
the middle, my 5-year-old sat on my left, and my husband sat across the
aisle. The trade-off for sitting with
the littles was that dad agreed to supervise all toilet and diaper needs. Woot!
Things were going swimmingly, kids behaving and quiet, and nap
ensued for baby pretty promptly. That’s
when I noticed the man in the aisle ahead of me. More accurately, I noticed his big screen laptop. As soon as tray tables could be
employed and seats reclined, that dude was on it. And by “on it,” I mean boom chicka pow pow on it.
His choice of in-flight entertainment was to watch the "The
Wolf of Wall Street."
Yes, that Wolf of
Wall Street. You know, the one with
orgies, drugs, snatch (can I even write that on mom.me?!) and Jonah Hill’s prosthetic full Monty. Oh my. I feel squirrelly even
typing that stuff out knowing that my 5-year-old is not 10 feet away from
me, watching Lalaloopsy.
I’m not so uptight that I haven’t seen the movie. I did. In theaters when it came out. I
didn’t like it. Truth be told, it kind
of repulsed me. And not, to steal my
friend Nikki’s words, in a “pearl clutching” kind of way, but more in a “greed
is excessive and detrimental and damaging to the social structure not to
mention my soul” kind of way. I just
found it really hard to watch. Painful.
So, here I am on an airplane and this is my view:
When you’re on an airplane and the dude in front of you sees
fit to stretch back and enjoy a little light smut, well, there’s not really
much you can do about it. You’re
trapped. I opted to do what any
self-respecting mom blogger would do – whipped out my iPhone and tried to
capture the money shot, already writing this blog post in my head. Ha!
My husband, the same husband who was sitting across the
aisle, was not really worried about what a 5-year-old might make of visually
depicted orgies and coke spoons and dwarf throws and oral pleasure and
whatnot. He actually had never seen the
movie. He couldn’t stop laughing at me
furtively snapping the above photos.
Gratefully, we had purchased the Minecraft app for our son
for the flight, so he was lost doing whatever 5-year-olds do with
Minecraft. He looked over a time or two
and loves nothing more than to swipe quickly through my photos, but it was all
In the end, I opted to keep my reservations to myself. I’m a live and let live kind of gal, and
given the baby was napping and the little one was busy with pixels on a screen
and I was getting some hilarious racy photos leading to a solid blog post,
well, pffft. No harm, no foul.
That said, Kids, don’t do drugs. And Single Men on Airplanes? Don’t watch "The Wolf of Wall Street." Really. Keep that stuff on the down low. And by down low, I mean not at 30K feet. That shit ain’t cool.