Eating on a Jet Plane

I got to fly the infamous American Domestic flight yesterday. It's been a few years now and I forgot that things had changed.

So I revert a smidgen upon arrival in the US. Call it the giddy American girl who forgets she exists until she crosses the "Welcome to Houston, Texas" sign.  I remember customer service and that I am always right. It just makes me so pleased my panties tie up in a bundle.

We get on our second flight and I'm reminded by the flight attendant that there is no snack on board. I am more than welcome to buy one. That pisses me off. No snack?! No nuts?!  No crackers?!  Really, you can't afford to give a girl a cracker?  I then see everyone else pulling out subway and packed sandwiches. They were prepared.

See, right there. That was the American girl who snuck in and got a bit cranky over a cracker.  Actually, it was more about what she is entitled to seeing how much she spent for that flight.

Oh there she goes again.

Anyway, that's when it hits me, it's a 2.5 hr flight.  2.5 hours people.  You don't need to eat.  I seriously doubt every person on that plane had some sort of glucose disorder or was on a body builder's diet of 6 small evenly distributed meals.

The problem is, we Americans feel the need to eat when we sit.  It's very much a, oh I'm sitting so to compensate I should put something in my mouth. Maybe that's why there so much alcohol consumption and sex on American campuses.

And I fall for it too. Whatever will I do with myself and my 2 kids on a 2.5 hour flight without a fridge, pantry full of food, and/or a waiter.

Regardless, we survived. Yes, I bought the damn crackers. I have kids people and I neglected to pack them lunch. Bad Mommy.

Let's just hope I can remember a little of the Brazilian and keep my mouth closed, that is unless there's an actual meal in front of me, a cold beer, a kid not wearing socks, or  a hot guy I need to grunt at.

Fingers crossed!