The Weekday One Hundred

Fifteen minutes until takeoff. Two seats on my left, two more across the aisle. Would they stay empty? Odds were good.

Then I saw my first born. Furious.  

“Nice warning…” she muttered, dropping into her seat.

The twins weren’t far behind, backpacks dragging, their nasty looks doing the talking.

Ten minutes. Still one seat vacant.

“Wait!” came a plane rattling scream. An angry yet familiar face followed.

“Forget something?” my wife asked, panting.

I pointed at my phone charging in the seatback pocket.

“Nope,” I grinned.              

The next time I say, “Don’t wander off before a flight,” maybe they’ll listen.