So that was a long flight.
Even though we got in 30 minutes earlier than expected, 30 minutes isn't a whole lot when you're looking at a 13+ hour flight. It's Saturday morning here. Hong Kong time. It's Friday 4:00pm California time. I lost a day in my 40+ hours of REAL TIME traveling.
I did get some sleep though... finally. I'm feeling much less cranky. When I woke up, the attendants were passing out orange juice and water. In my sleepiness I sort of lilted to my right and saw an eight year old Indian kid, let's call him Saint Peter, sitting patiently in his seat while his three year old brother, let's call him the Devil, was trying to push him out of it. The boys' parents were sitting on the other side of the Devil and were softly offering, "have a seat" and "relax" to the monster. I felt Saint Peter's pain. After a couple of minutes of this the Devil kicked Saint Peter's tray and an entire cup of orange juice spilled over Saint Peter's seat. He jumped up and into the isle. Somehow he managed to avoid it on his clothing. The orange juice just pooled in the seat while everyone else just sat there not moving. Saint Peter stood waiting. I called for a flight attendant but none came. Poor Saint Peter. After about 1/2 of it had soaked into his seat his dad threw him a blanket and just told him to soak it up. He did so without complaint.
About this time my mom decided she had to go to the bathroom so I let her up and she stood in the isle while Saint Peter tried to dry his seat. Then the kid seated right in front of Saint Peter (another 8 year oldish Indian boy) woke up long enough to throw up. Twice. On the isle carpet. On my socks. And my mom's.
Again. No one did anything. My "call" to the flight attendant was still lit so there really wasn't much more to do. My mom went to the bathroom and changed her socks. Saint Peter went back to his seat by climbing on top of the blanket that separated him from the wet seat. The vomiter put his tray down and sort of held his head in his hands. Well one hand. The other hand had vomit all over it.
No one answered my "call" intentionally but a flight attendant did try to pass through the isle to deliver breakfast trays. When I pointed out the vomit he looked rather irritated.
He turned around and came back several minutes later with some news papers he threw down on the floor and some air freshener. He wiped the kids face with plastic gloves and a wetnap. The kid looked miserable. I asked if he was okay and offered to get him a bag or something but he said he would be alright.
A few minutes later his dad walked by. He pushed him up from the tray table he was laying on and said, "sit up straight! You'll get sore" and then he walked away. I stopped him. "Uh, sir... he just threw up." I pointed to the newspapers. "You might want to, you know, check in on him." You could see the dad was embarrassed. He came back and comforted his son a little wiping up his face again with a wetnap.
I was proactive during landing.
You know those screaming babies that accompany every flight's landing? Well a few years ago there was a real wailer on a flight from Alaska. The mom was embarrassed. I was mostly sympathetic. Only slightly annoyed. The flight attendant came over with two drinking cups. She said, "look, I know is sounds strange but just trust me." She took a couple of napkins and wadded them up in each of the cups. Then she got them both slightly damp. She put the cups on either side of the baby's head (covering it's) ears. The baby stopped crying instantly. She mumbled something about air pressure but no one was really listening we were all so impressed with her voodoo power.
I made the magic cups before the landing in Hong Kong. It worked. I felt barely any pain at all. No tears. I looked like a goof. ... as you see. But it worked! I'll take looking dorky over the pain of what I imagine feels like child birthing through your forehead any day.
And one more thing... they are calling for pre-boarding on my final leg of travel right now. As much as I would hate to not be able to join the hoverers and all, I have one more thing.
Check this math--
My dad and I ordered a couple of things. The total came to $65. He paid with a ten-dollar bill. We got $11 back. Where does this happen you might wonder...
Hong Kong Airport's Starbucks!
65 Hong Kong dollars was about 9 US dollars.
The change was 1 US dollar which was 11 Hong Kong dollars.
Mind you I am just trusting that the barista was doing HIS math right. :)