by Matt Walsh
I was worried about the strangers glaring at me in the airport terminal while I was in the midst of dealing with my crying 15-month-old twins.
I was worried about the woman who stopped me to offer some fantastically condescending advice.
Oh, they’re probably tired, you say? Hmmm, perhaps you’re onto something, Nancy Drew. I’m only their father — it’s a good thing I have the peanut gallery on hand to remind me that kids often cry when they’re tired. Hey, now that you’ve made this insight, would you mind pointing me to the quiet airport nursery where I can take them so they can sleep without being disturbed by the grating sounds of the Captain Obvious brigade, which apparently tours the Earth telling parents that their tired and fussy kids are tired and fussy? Oh, you’re not done? Now you’re informing me that, when your kids were young, you scheduled your flights around their nap schedule? Yes, well clearly that thought never occurred to either my wife or myself. It simply never dawned on us. It’s not like there are plenty of reasons why we had to fly at this specific time and I have no interest in explaining them to you because YOU’RE A STRANGER AND I’M PRETTY STRESSED OUT RIGHT NOW SO PLEASE, DEAR GOD, WHEEL YOUR DESIGNER LUGGAGE AS FAR AWAY FROM MY PERSONAL SPACE AS YOU CAN, LADY.
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