Privileged Parents Excused Their Child for Kicking My Seat on the Flight, Claiming “He’s Just a Kid!”, Karma Delivered Them a Teachable Moment

On a long flight, a woman’s patience is tested by a child who kicks her seat and parents who ignore the disruption. What begins as a frustrating ordeal soon takes a surprising turn, revealing that karma has a way of delivering unexpected lessons.

As I settled into my aisle seat for a seven-hour flight, I hoped for some much-needed relaxation. With a book in hand, noise-canceling headphones on, and a good playlist ready, I thought I was prepared for the journey ahead. The cabin was packed and the air felt stuffy, but I was willing to endure it for a peaceful trip.

Then it began. A soft thumping at the back of my seat started to grow louder. Initially, I dismissed it, thinking a child was just adjusting in their seat. But the thumping became a steady rhythm, kick, kick, kick, each hit harder than the last.

I turned around and saw a boy, around six or seven, swinging his legs and grinning as if he were having a great time. His sneakers repeatedly slammed into my seat, creating a mini drum concert. His parents, seated nearby, were glued to their phones, completely unaware of the chaos their child was causing. I hoped the boy would tire out soon, or that his parents would notice, but the kicks only intensified.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally decided I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I turned around, offering a polite smile and asked the parents to ask their son to stop kicking my seat. The mother barely acknowledged me, dismissing my request with a “He’s just a kid!” before returning to her phone. I tried again, but the father was too engrossed in a video to care. Sensing his parents’ indifference, the boy kicked even harder, laughing as if he were winning some game at my expense.

I pressed the call button for the flight attendant, hoping she could help. She arrived, friendly and professional, and I explained the situation. She approached the family, asking them kindly to stop the boy from kicking my seat. For a brief moment, there was silence.

But as soon as she walked away, the kicks resumed, even more forceful this time. Frustrated, I stood up and spoke louder, asking them again to control their child. The mother rolled her eyes, and the father muttered something dismissive. The boy laughed and kicked harder. At this point, I was fed up. I called the attendant again, asking if I could switch to another seat. She returned shortly with good news: there was a seat available in first class.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my belongings and followed her to the front of the plane. The first-class section was a welcome relief, spacious, quiet, and free of children. I settled into my new seat, and the tension melted away. I was finally able to relax, enjoying a drink and diving into my book.

As the flight continued smoothly, I overheard the attendants talking about my old seatmates. The boy had found a new target for his kicks, an elderly woman who had taken my place. When she asked him to stop, the mother snapped at her, escalating the situation to a shouting match that caught the attention of the flight crew. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the elderly woman but couldn’t deny the poetic justice unfolding. As we prepared to land, I noticed security vehicles waiting by the gate.

When we disembarked, I saw the family being escorted off the plane by security officers. The boy, who had been so bold earlier, was now crying, clinging to his mother. The parents looked embarrassed, no longer the dismissive people they had been. I left the airport feeling a sense of satisfaction that surprised me. Karma had intervened, allowing me to enjoy my first-class experience and witness a bit of justice served.

As I walked past the family, I couldn’t help but smile at them. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the closure I needed. Sometimes, the universe has a way of balancing things out, and that day, it certainly did. With my book finished and my flight experience greatly improved, I walked away with a story that would surely entertain friends in the future.

This Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year

This Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year

It started off innocently enough. Selene parked her car in the wrong parking spot, fueling a prank war with Paul, the real owner of the parking spot. As the months went by, the pair continued their prank war, but Selen started to wonder about the future of these seemingly innocent practical jokes. She took matters into her own hands and asked Paul out for dinner, under the guise of someone else. Will it be the ultimate prank or something more?

It all began with a parking mishap. It was just one innocent mistake that spiraled into a year-long prank war with my neighbor, Paul.

An apartment building parking lot | Source: Unsplash

An apartment building parking lot | Source: Unsplash

One evening, I accidentally parked in Paul’s parking spot in our apartment building’s lot. It was late, I was exhausted, and I just wanted to crawl into bed.

I didn’t think much of it until the next morning when I was on my way to the office. There, on my car, on an empty takeaway cup, a note was scrawled in messy handwriting.

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Pexels

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Pexels

Thanks for ruining my day.

“Oh, crap,” I said to myself when I sat in the car. I needed to make amends.

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

The following morning, I left a warm cup of coffee on Paul’s car roof with a note that read:

Sorry for the mix-up. I hope this makes up for it.

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels

If you’re wondering, Paul and I didn’t know each other. We just lived in the same apartment block and knew everyone’s names and door numbers.

A few days later, I found a bill from a car-washing service under my windshield wiper. It seemed that Paul didn’t notice the coffee that I left and spilled it all over his car when he drove off.

A car in a car wash | Source: Pexels

A car in a car wash | Source: Pexels

I refused to pay the bill, and thus, the little war began.

“I think that you and this mysterious Paul are either going to fall in love or end up despising each other,” my friend Daphne said at work.

A smiling woman holding a folder | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman holding a folder | Source: Pexels

“Probably the latter,” I said. “It was all fine until he gave me a bill.”

“Selene,” she said knowingly, “I’m telling you, this is just the beginning.”

The next day, I left my work phone number on his car.

Call me regarding the payment.

A piece of paper on a car | Source: Midjourney

A piece of paper on a car | Source: Midjourney

Paul called me later that evening.

“Really? You thought that leaving coffee on the roof of a car was a good idea?” he asked, going straight into it.

“How was I supposed to know that you’d drive off without looking? Besides, it was a peace offering!”

A man using a phone | Source: Unsplash

A man using a phone | Source: Unsplash

“More like a disaster,” he said. “It was all over my window. Pay the car wash bill, please.”

“I’m not paying for it,” I said, hanging up.

After that, the pranks escalated quickly.

Spilled coffee in the air | Source: Pexels

Spilled coffee in the air | Source: Pexels

“I told you,” Daphne said when she came home with me one evening. “It’s going to get more intense. You need to listen to me. Trust me on this, you and this guy are going to get under each other’s skin.”

“I don’t know about that, Daph,” I said, dishing out the curry we had bought for dinner.

Bowls of curry and rice | Source: Unsplash

Bowls of curry and rice | Source: Unsplash

“But you’re having fun?” she asked, tearing into a piece of bread.

“I am!” I said. “Mainly because it’s nothing serious.”

Flatbread on a board | Source: Pexels

Flatbread on a board | Source: Pexels

One day, I found my car doors wrapped in plastic wrap.

The next week, I retaliated by covering Paul’s car in sticky notes, each one asking him to fix his parking.

A person tearing through plastic wrap | Source: Pexels

A person tearing through plastic wrap | Source: Pexels

“If it rains tonight,” Paul said, immediately calling me after seeing the sticky notes, “you’ll have a mushy mess of paper to clean up.”

“I think you’ll figure it out for yourself,” I said, hiding behind my curtain.

A car covered in sticky notes | Source: Midjourney

A car covered in sticky notes | Source: Midjourney

I had to admit, I was attracted to him. I didn’t know if Paul knew who I was, but it was easier for me to watch him from my apartment. I had gotten used to watching him wash his car.

It turned out that it was comforting. There was a sense of intimacy that we had built up.

A person hiding behind blinds | Source: Unsplash

A person hiding behind blinds | Source: Unsplash

After months of back-and-forth pranks, ranging from balloons tied onto car handles and window wipers, to fake parking tickets, I decided that it was time to end the war.

“But you need a grand finale,” Daphne said as we sat in our office, trying to work through month-end reports.

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

“Like what?” I asked, typing away at my keyboard.

“You’re into him, right?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“I think so,” I said. “But I don’t know much about him.”

A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels

A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels

“Then get to know him,” my friend pressed on. “There’s something there; if not, this would have ended a long time ago.”

“Fine,” I said. “But you write the note. He knows my handwriting now.”

We intended to write a note from a secret admirer.

A person writing a note | Source: Pexels

A person writing a note | Source: Pexels

“She can just be someone from your apartment,” Daphne said. “And it’s not like you and Paul have even interacted in person, Selene. To be honest, I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay anonymous for so long.”

“It’s the thrill of it,” I said.

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

Early the next morning, I left the note that Daphne had written on Paul’s car.

Hey, I saw you leaving your car and couldn’t help but notice how handsome you are. Let’s have dinner?

I added my personal number that he wouldn’t recognize at the bottom.

A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

To my surprise, Paul called me later that morning.

“Selene, you’ll never guess what happened!” he said excitedly. “Some woman left me a note on my car.”

“Really?” I asked, feigning surprise. “What did it say?”

A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels

A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels

“She said that I was handsome and she wanted to have dinner. She left her number, too. So, I’m going to text her and go.”

Paul took the bait and texted me. We set up a date, and I, still pretending to be someone else, agreed to meet him at a local restaurant.

A table at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A table at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

I was already seated, suddenly nervous. We had been at this for so long; what if everything blew up in my face?

What if I was living in a romantic comedy and Paul actually couldn’t stand me?

Almost ready to leave, Paul walked into the restaurant.

A man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, you’re here! You look familiar,” he said. “But I suppose I have seen you around the building.”

He spoke quickly, as though he was just as nervous.

“I’m sure that’s exactly it,” I said, smiling.

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

“Your voice reminds me of my neighbor, Selene. I’m sure you’ve seen us pranking each other recently,” he chuckled, his eyes glazing over as if lost in a memory.

“What’s that been like?” I asked.

A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Well, Daphne,” he said, as I had introduced myself over text, “it’s been hilarious. It’s been the best few months of my life.”

“It sounds like she’s grown on you,” I said, smiling.

“She’s feisty, all right,” he said, ordering himself a whiskey.

A man holding a glass of whiskey | Source: Pexels

A man holding a glass of whiskey | Source: Pexels

The rest of the evening went by smoothly, but the more Paul spoke, the more I found myself genuinely enjoying his company. He was charming, funny, and surprisingly sweet.

By the time our meals arrived, I couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer.

Plates of food at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Plates of food at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Paul,” I said, picking up my cocktail, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s that?” he asked, looking me in the eye.

“I haven’t been very honest about this date,” I said slowly. “I’m Selene.”

A cocktail on a table | Source: Pexels

A cocktail on a table | Source: Pexels

Paul’s jaw dropped.

“Wait, really?” he asked. “Why did you want to meet like this?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “Call it insecurity? Daphne is my best friend; I asked her to write the note, and I used her name. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have deceived you.”

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

“No, no,” he said, a large smile forming on his face. “I’ve never had this much fun with anyone. I’m glad we got to meet. Finally.”

The rest of the evening went much smoother, knowing that we had something in common. It was something to bond over. And more than that, there was chemistry between us. It wasn’t just me.

“I’m glad we did this,” Paul said as we went our separate ways in the parking lot. “It needed to happen.”

An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels

An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels

“And now, we’re here,” I said, taking his hand, suddenly feeling brave.

I don’t know where our relationship will go or what it will become, but I do know that I’ve taken the first step toward something.

What would you have done?

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*