I gave the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he would stop. But the kicking continued every few seconds, a steady thump against my spine. I took out my earbuds and tried to focus on anything else. But I couldn’t ignore the pressure mounting in my chest. This wasn’t just annoying. It was infuriating.
I turned again and addressed the mother. “Excuse me, could you please ask your son to stop kicking my seat?” She looked up for the first time, sighed, and said, “He’s just a kid. Let it go.” Then she went back to her magazine. My jaw clenched. I had been polite. This wasn’t just bad parenting, it was complete disregard for everyone else on the flight.
The boy kept going. I shifted forward, hands folded, trying to breathe through it. But each thud snapped me back into anger. He wasn’t tired. He wasn’t sorry. He was entertained. I knew I couldn’t spend the next five hours like this.