The little ways in which we are all complicit, even when we don't mean to be

[sev]

First time flying with the baby.  Somehow, without discussion but mutually consistent, when referring to our two carry-ons the diaper bag is "mine" and the rolling suitcase is "his."  My few carry-on items are spread between the two bags -- a book here, a snack there, a pill dispenser with my critical prescriptions.   I say, on the way home, after failing to locate the book I wanted to read on the plane, that next time I'd like a carry-on of my own.  He says he doesn't know how we can make that happen, if we can only have two carry-ons for two adults.  Perhaps I will carry a large handbag, I suggest.

Comments

[malafrena.livejournal.com]

We just flew . . . and on top of the diaper bag (carried by Rojonoir) and personal bag (carried, optimistically, by me), we had two kid backpacks, which provided about ten minutes of entertainment. What with the cranky almost-two-year old who didn't have her own seat, neither of us had any time to read. It gets easier . . . or, um, different.