what we talk about when we talk about flying (with infants)

the algebra of sets; pen and ink on paper (old math textbook paper).

1) Terminal 3 at Pearson is a pattern-carpeted ghetto.

2) When you get on an airplane with an infant, essentially you're entering into a cage match with a twenty-pound wrestler.

3) The match is fixed.

4) You lose.

5) Note to Mister Professor, sitting across the aisle from us with his half-his-age wife and two young children: putting your hand over the mouth of a tantrum-throwing four year-old is an *extremely* poor silencing strategy.

6) Also: forget the newspaper. And *really* forget that "Learning Portuguese" book. Those things went out the window when you started messing around with that young, skinny thing (well *of course* she lied about wanting kids).

7) A poop will happen. Fortunately, Oona's came in Terminal 3.

8) It deserved it.

9) My own never-been-in-a-bathroom-on-an-airplane streak remains: intact.

10) Is there a more fitting example of the queasy uselessness attendant in most of our (modern) lives than sitting in a landed jetliner, sitting there on the tarmac while it waits for a place to park?


  1. i LOVE this post.

    what i talk about when i talk about posting.

  2. Good to hear No 9 is still intact! And that you guys are home again. Order is restored :)

  3. Pearson is where dreams go to die.

  4. haha..your posts make me laugh..cause I been there, bought the Tee and wore it out..now the babies on the plane are grown men and finally way fun to travel with..whew!

  5. ditto what maggie said.

  6. oona is adorable. and you are ever so talented. so don't worry about the breeze...

  7. Love that drawing. And I have yet to fly with an infant - I'm looking forward to this experience, having heard your glowing recounting.


  8. oh but your drawing is cool!

  9. I love your pen and inks on old math textbook paper. love them. and Oona is a spectacularly beautiful name.


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