My ears popped and I don’t understand that pain is temporary.
The in-flight entertainment doesn’t include “Bubble Guppies.”
I couldn’t buy anything at duty free because I am a baby with no money and no credit score.
I’m hungry but am not allowed to eat the cute little snack pretzels everyone else is enjoying. Instead, I get applesauce that’s been sitting in my mom’s bag for hours.
I had to check my carry-on because the overhead bin was full.
The air is so dry that the boogers inside my nose are hardening and making me feel like I can’t breathe through my nose. And thinking too much about breathing through my nose makes me forget to breathe through my mouth and now I have a headache.
I don’t know how to fill out a customs form.
There’s another crying baby on this flight and I love to harmonize.
I’m embarrassed that I accidentally hit the flight-attendant call button.
I ate too much warm applesauce and my tummy hurts.
Wi-Fi is seven dollars per megabyte.
The fasten-seatbelt sign’s disembodied hands are scaring me.
In all honesty, I spit up a little from the applesauce.
This flight is emitting tons of carbon into the atmosphere.
I hadn’t heard the sound of my own voice for hours and I was starting to worry I’d lost it.
I had a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare, but it featured some disturbing imagery of people without hands that will haunt me for months, if not years, to come.
Still not sure if I’m supposed to declare anything on this customs form.
I looked out the window and saw the Earth from above and everything looked so small that it made me question whether anything we do even matters.
Everyone clapped after the landing, which woke me up and was unnecessary.
The captain finally turned off the fasten-seatbelt sign, but now I kind of miss it.
We’ve been taxiing for thirty minutes.
I pooped my diaper.
