Sometimes vacations bring a moment of panic.
Our first family vacation that involved air travel had us flying the last leg on a small, bumpy flight with one row of single seats on one side of the plane. I sat in front of my six-year-old son, and behind him was another six-year-old. The seatbelt sign was on. We descended before our stomachs. That’s when I heard two remarkable imaginations echo through the hollow tube with a play-by-play for everyone to hear.
“We’re going to crash!” One boy yelled at the other.
“Ah, that was close.”
“Holy moly, there’s an alligator on the wing.”
The plane bucked in the air and then tilted to turn.
“The alligator is gone, but seaweed clogged the engine, and now it’s smoking.”
From the other side of the plane came an elderly voice, “Is there really smoke?”
I tried to squeeze my face between the back of my seat and the metal wall with desperate “SHHH” noises, but these two were on cloud nine all the way down.
By Frank Rocco Satullo, The OhioTraveler, Your Tour Guide to Fun
