Day !

I left out of Boston in the morning after a 12 hour night shift in the ER. The ER wasn't too crazy and my co-worker Lisa knew I was on edge about my trip, she picked up my slack and helped me relax the best she could until we left at 7am. Thank you Lisa!
I pulled out of my driveway at 9:30 am for my flight out of Logan. Easy breezy through security. Logan employees are rude, just saying, don't bother to ask a question, you'll get the "what is wrong with you dumbass" look. My sister Patty had hopes that I would get to fly first class all the way to Stuttgart....hahah, she is just like me, a dreamer. Let me describe BOS-ATL, I was seated in the last row, next to the toilet. My carry on bag which had my books, magazine, computer etc was taken from my possession and "stowed in the front of the plane where there was adequate overhead space". Where, which row number? It didn't matter, I wasn't going to get it until we landed. I would have to meditate for the next 3 hours because of what was about to happen next. There were only 4 seats left on the plane, it was cramped, smelly and hot. We were all preparing to take off according to flight attendants (don't ever call them stewardess) instructions when the attendant closest to me said, ut o, I see trouble brewing. Down the aisle, yelling in spanglish was a very young woman with 3 children ranging from 2-7, the only girl was the oldest. Mom sits in front of me with the yougest and the 2 others were in another row. There is no peace or quiet. Yelling ensues, sippee cups and little debbie snack cakes get tossed between rows, crying starts next followed by a cough (Mom) that turns to a deep, hacking cough up a lung tuberculosis style. Wow, she sounded sick. Then she popped her pills and I thought better of it. At least with antibiotics, she would not be contagious. Silly me, those were her tranquilizers. Easy to tell as she kept missing her mouth with her little debbie snack cake, her eye half closed, every action in slow motion, finally it fell onto the floor where she dug her foot into it then kicked it back under my feet. nice. In the mean time, her kids were all pimped out, daugher with life size butterfly earrings on, high heeled silver strappy sandals and the brother looked like baby punks. Is there such a thing as a baby punk? The only words the little one's said was mama, mamacita, mama, mamacita over and over while mama's drug induced coma took effect. The flight attendants became nanny's to a very demanding group who were clearly used to not having a mother figure in charge of them. The daughter took the brothers to the bathroom and snuggled them when they held their ears while popping and during a few moments of extreme turbulence. I wonder how she knew to do that since there wasn't a sober role model for her? I being in the last row, was last off the plane. Mamacita slept on soundly as her daughter packed up the sibling and marched them off the plane. Mamacita would have stayed put but the daughter ran back saying that the plane to peurto rico was waiting, Mama, wake up, mama we will miss our plane. Poor kids. At least the gang wasn't traveling on to Stuttgart.