This weekend, Mitch and I were in Portland for the wedding of Jon Fox and Annie Dugas. (My co-blogger got married!) On the way there we got cushy seats, three for the two of us, on the airplane. On the way back, though, we got checked in late: C37 and 38. (Too much wedding joy happening on Saturday.)
Mitch was hung over from the night before and hadn't said much during our time in the airport. On the plane, we managed to get seats together, but they were in the very last row, butted up against the lavatories. A family came back to fill in the last remaining seats. They had 21 month-old twin girls, and at least one of them was screaming during the entire four-hour flight. The first thing that happened as the mom sat down next to Mitch, holding one of the toddlers, was that the girl slung milk from her bottle all over him.
After we landed in Chicago, the couple sitting next to the other screaming child asked us if we had kids of our own. They told us that they had three kids and said, referring to our flight experience, "Good birth control, isn't it?" The opinion that crying children are good birth control is an opinion I've invariably heard from parents of several kids. I'm not sure if they know, but it's completely ineffective. Actual birth control is good birth control, folks. You heard it here first.
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