We actually made it to Ireland without Junior being escorted out to the wing! Something happened to my kids on the airplane after take-off. It was as if two shimmering halos descended upon their heads and I had Bobby and Cindy from the Brady Bunch at my sides. Inititally, Junior's seatmate looked dismayed when he saw us in his row and I could see him scouting for alternative seating. When he finally sat down, Junior stared at his tats which were from bicep to pinky and informed him that he had a leprechaun on his forearm and had he been to the lepreuchan museum in Ireland? He hadn't. Then, after dinner Junior fell asleep and remained that way until landing, when he woke up momentarily and fell right back asleep on the guy's shoulder. He was declared "A very good traveler" by tatooed guy and I had to agree.
I had a list of important rules for the plane ride that I didn't really believe would be followed. Number one was not to call me, his sister, or the flight attendants FARTSON at the top of his lungs which he normally does with the regularity of breathing. I didn't have to turn the airplane potty into a Naughty Chair, which made me exceptionally happy. I'm a terrible flyer and for some reason whenever I get up from my seat and walk back to the bathroom, I tip the plane. If it's going to crash, it's when I'm in the bathroom and not steering the plane from my seat, so I'm very glad Fartson kept his mouth shut and I was able to fly the plane (quite smoothly, to my credit) safely into Dublin. The Rob Ryan buntitng is from Aricle Dublin.
