I expected that it would be an easy flight. I smiled as the family with young children slid into the seats behind us. Two children who were about three or four years old. The father sat in the middle of the three-seat row. The mother, and another child, sat in the same row on the other side of the aisle.

Shortly after takeoff, the kicking against the back of my seat started. I tried to ignore it. I thought that it would stop as soon as they became occupied with something else. I thought about my children at that age.

The kicking persisted. Finally, I turned around and made eye contact with the father. He knew why I turned around. I thought that non-verbal interchange would suffice. It was about a half-hour of relief before the kicking resumed. Try to ignore it.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the aisle, the child is also kicking the seat in front. I exchanged glances with my fellow victim. He finally turned to the father and had words. Something to the effect of “Please control your children.”  The father gave a shrug of helplessness. (If not him, who?)

The coup de grace came as the plane descended to land. The pressure must have been too much for the childrens’ ears. One started to cry and the other -- not to be outdone -- started to scream. Soon all the children in our section joined in the chorus.

I like kids. Really. And I firmly believe that parents should be able to take their children on airplanes. But should it be at the detriment of fellow passengers?