I am trapped in a tube without understanding of how or why, and God as my witness all who travel with us shall feel my wrath.
Silence to my shrill harpy of a mother- I know not what a “seat-belt sign” is. I do not heed the light panel that beacons from the ceiling; I surrender only to the bright lights of my Fisher Price Play phone, or the siren song of Cocomelon on the iPad.
I will not be bribed into silence with offers of “yum-yums”- I know those are raisins, and Taylor E. at daycare informed me that they were, in fact, not a treat but a fruit.
Your deceit is as sharply painful as my harrowing screeches upon this unholy vessel that transports me to see Pop-Pop and Nana. Oh I know the fate you have in store…
You expect me to sit passively, obedient in the knowledge that soon I will be poked and prodded; my height and weight assessed while demands of “huggies” and cheek kisses fly like arrows to my betrayed little heart?
No, mom and dad. I know your games, and I will best you at them. I know my cries hurt you as much they embarrass you in regard to your fellow passengers. I can smell your fear.