All moms have at least one — the worst airplane barf story traveling with kids. One of my sons, at the age of 13 had quite the rite of passage. He has always been healthy, seldom gets a cold or flu. In fact, his first cold was at age 3, and he thought he had a bloody nose when he got the sniffles. So, he really had no experience identifying the signs of “coming down with something” or even a case of food poisoning.
We had just arrived at the airport after a long week of family gatherings. My oldest son had just been married in the Timpanogos Temple and we had driven up for the marriage and festivities. The day at the temple had been beautiful but blizzard-y cold. We stayed with my sister and family for the week and then parted ways — my son and I flying back to Orange County, CA and my hubby and dog taking the long drive through the Donner Pass to Sacramento for work.
Hubby and dog drop us off at Salt Lake City airport.
We are waiting around to board and my son is not feeling so good. I ask him the typical mom questions — “do you think you are getting sick, or is it just because we missed breakfast and lunch?” I thought it was because he hadn’t eaten, so I offer him a quick burger and fries at the airport.
Our Delta flight is not crowded, and we are able to sit in the back, no one next to us. It is nice. I text my sister, telling her we are on board, the fight is empty, lots of room, how unusual…what a blessing.
I had a lot of luggage so checked my bag. My son had his backpack and we had just settled down in our seats. The jet engines were running and we were buckled up, the plane taxi-ing to the runway. Not much warning, and my traveling companion, feeling a bit queasy, barfs his entire meal all over himself, the backpack, shoes, you name it. I am shocked, not sure what to do next, but slip out of my cardigan sweater, now unacceptable to wear. To let you know how bad it looks — the stewardess comes up the aisle and asks me, “should I contact the captain to turn the plane around?”
We think this is a one time deal, and say, its OK, and she brings a large plastic garbage bag, asking if by chance we had a change of clothes in our carry-on luggage. No such luck. We sit tight with barf on us until the plane’s captain turns off the “buckle your seat belt” light.
I hand my son the garbage bag and send him to the lavatory with the strict instructions to take everything off with barf on it — even his shoes. I stir through my backpack and find another pair of shoes — my rainbow flip flops, a white T shirt, and the package of Mario Boxers that he had talked me into buying at Target. This was going to be his new ensemble. And this was our little blessing for the day.
The poor guy sitting in front of us quickly found a new seat, and suddenly we even had more room than when we first got on the plane.
My son emerges from the back of the plane, white T, Mario boxers, and flip flops. December, but at least we were headed for California, having left snow-bound Utah.
The stewardess, a mother herself, confessed numerous embarrassing situations and was very reassuring. She gave us a couple of navy blue Delta blankets and we tried to act normal for the rest of the flight.
Of course, when we landed, we waited to be the last off the plane, my son in his underwear, carrying a large garbage bag. I quickly called from my cell phone to find a way home from the airport, as neither of us had planned on flying. I got hold of my neighbor, Diane who agreed to come save us.
As our luggage arrived and we had time to wait, I rummaged through my sons suitcase and found him some clothes to go with his underwear. Right there in baggage claim I handed over his clothes and ordered him to put them on, right there.
Home never felt so good. I dumped the whole lot of the contents of that garbage bag, backpack and all into the washing machine. Thank goodness for modern conveniences, and the foresight to spend my money on some dumb–looking cartoon printed boxers. Sometimes those impulse items can be life saving or at least lessen the embarrassment.
