An entitled mom thought breaking my little daughter’s iPad would end her son’s tantrums. But what came next left her more panicked than I could’ve imagined. Karma works fast… even at 30,000 feet!
I, Bethany, 35 years old, never thought a two-hour flight could change so much. But there I was, settling into my seat with my five-year-old daughter Ella next to me. As the plane taxied down the runway, I breathed a sigh of relief. Ella was contentedly watching cartoons on her iPad, headphones snug on her ears…
“You comfy, sweetie?” I asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Ella nodded, her eyes glued to the screen. “Uh-huh. Can I have juice later?”
“Of course,” I smiled, reaching for my book. “Just let me know when you’re thirsty.”
As I cracked open my novel, movement across the aisle caught my eye. A family of three had just sat down: a couple and a little boy around Ella’s age. He was squirming in his seat, whining loudly.
“I’m bored!” he wailed, kicking the seat in front of him.
His mother shushed him. “We told you, no screens on this trip. Be a good boy.”
The boy’s whining intensified, and I saw his gaze lock onto Ella’s iPad.
Oh boy, I thought. This might be a long flight.
Twenty minutes in, a tap on my shoulder made me look up. The mom from across the aisle was leaning towards me, a tight smile on her face.
“Hi there! I couldn’t help but notice your daughter’s iPad. We’ve decided to be responsible parents and not give our son any screen time this vacation. Would you mind putting that away? It’s making him upset.”
I blinked, stunned by her audacity. “Excuse me?”
“It’s just… it’s not fair to him, you know?”
I took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm. “I’m sorry, but no. My daughter’s using it to stay calm during the flight.”
The woman’s smile vanished instantly. “Wow, really? You’d rather ruin our family trip than have your daughter take a break from her precious screen?”
“Listen,” I said, my patience wearing thin, “she’s quietly minding her own business. Your son could do the same if you’d brought him something to do.”
The woman, let’s just call her “Entitled Mom (EM)” was visibly frustrated.
“Some parents just can’t say no to their kids these days. No wonder they all end up spoiled.”
I turned back to my book, hoping that would end the conversation. But I could feel her glare burning into the side of my head.
“Everything okay, Mommy?” Ella asked, momentarily looking up from her show.
“Everything’s fine, sweetie. Just keep watching your cartoons.”
The next hour was tense. The boy’s tantrum escalated, his wails piercing through the cabin noise.
His parents shot us dirty looks every few minutes, as if we were personally responsible for their poor planning.
“I want that!” the boy shrieked, pointing at Ella’s iPad. “It’s not fair!”
His mother leaned over. “I know, honey. Some people are just SELFISH!”
I gritted my teeth, focusing on my book. The words blurred as I tried to block out the chaos around us. Ella remained oblivious, lost in her cartoons.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted beside us. Entitled Mom had leaned across the aisle, reaching for her bag. But instead of grabbing her belongings, her arm knocked into Ella’s tray table.
Time seemed to slow as I watched Ella’s iPad slide off the tray. It hit the floor with a sickening crack, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of fractures.
Ella’s scream cut through the air. “Mommy, my iPad!”
Entitled Mom’s face lit with fake surprise. “Oh no! I didn’t mean to do that! So clumsy of me!”
But I saw the glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. This was NO ACCIDENT.
“What is wrong with you?” I hissed.
She shrugged, not even trying to hide her smugness. “These things happen. Maybe it’s a sign she needs less screen time.”
I was about to unleash a torrent of words that would make a sailor blush when a flight attendant appeared.
“Is everything alright here?” she asked, eyeing the shattered iPad.
Entitled Mom’s act kicked into high gear. “Oh, it was just a terrible accident. I feel awful!”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the flight attendant cut me off with a sympathetic smile.
“I’m so sorry about your device, ma’am. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do mid-flight. Please let us know if you need anything else.”
As she walked away, I turned to comfort my distraught daughter, knowing this battle was far from over. But it seemed karma had other plans.
With Ella’s iPad out of commission, the boy’s tantrum reached new heights. He bounced in his seat, kicked the chair in front of him, and yanked on the tray table.
“Sweetie, please settle down,” Entitled Mom pleaded.
“I’m bored! This is the worst trip ever!”
I watched from the corner of my eye, torn between sympathy for the child and a petty sense of satisfaction at Entitled Mom’s struggle.
Ella tugged on my sleeve, her eyes still watery. “Mommy, can you fix it?”
I hugged her close. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We’ll have to get it looked at when we land. How about we read a book instead?”
As I reached into my bag for another book, chaos erupted across the aisle.
The boy, in a fit of hyperactivity, had knocked over Entitled Mom’s coffee cup. The dark liquid spread across her lap and splashed into her open handbag.
“No, no, no!” she cried, frantically trying to save her belongings.
In her haste to rescue her bag, something fell out and landed on the floor. Yikes! It was a small blue booklet. I took a closer look and gasped. It was her PASSPORT!
Before anyone could react, her son’s foot came down on the fallen document, grinding it into the coffee-soaked carpet.
God, you should’ve seen Entitled Mom’s face. It was EPIC!
She snatched up the passport, but the damage was done. The pages were soaked through, stuck together in a soggy mess. The cover was warped beyond recognition. It looked like a water-logged, soggy piece of toast.
“Ma’am?” A flight attendant approached. “Is that your passport?”
Entitled Mom nodded, speechless for once.
“I’m so sorry, but I have to inform you that a damaged passport could cause serious issues when we land. Especially if you’re traveling internationally.”
Entitled Mom’s eyes widened in panic. She turned to her husband, seeking a way out. “What are we going to do? Our connecting flight to Paris leaves in three hours!”
Her husband shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe we can explain at customs?”
As they bickered, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of malevolence.
As the plane began its descent, Entitled Mom was frantically dabbing at her ruined passport with tissues, muttering under her breath. Her son, exhausted from his earlier tantrums, had finally fallen asleep.
I leaned over to Ella, who was reading her storybook with a big smile. “Great job, sweetie! You’re a real bookworm!”
She beamed at me, her earlier distress over the iPad forgotten. “Can we bake cupcakes when we get home, Mommy?”
“Absolutely,” I promised, ruffling her hair. “And maybe we can bake some cookies too!”
A soft whimper from across the aisle drew my attention. Entitled Mom was on the phone, her eyes brimming with panic.
“Yes, I understand it’s last minute, but we need to reschedule our entire trip. No, we can’t make the connecting flight. Because… because my passport is ruined.”
I couldn’t help but overhear as she explained the situation, detailing how she’d have to go through the process of getting an emergency passport before they could continue their journey.
As we began to taxi to our gate, Entitled Mom caught my eye as we stood to disembark.
For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of remorse in her eyes. But then her son started whining again, and the moment passed.
“Ready to go, Ella?” I asked, helping her gather her things.
“Can we get ice cream at the airport, Mommy?”
“I think we deserve a little treat, don’t you think?!” I laughed.
As we made our way off the plane, I couldn’t help but reflect on the bizarre turn of events. What had started as a simple two-hour flight had turned into a lesson in karma, patience, and the unpredictability of travel.
I glanced back one last time to see Entitled Mom still frantically trying to salvage her ruined passport. It was a grim reminder that our actions, good or bad, often have unexpected consequences.
Turns out, it wasn’t just Ella’s iPad that got ruined on that flight. Entitled Mom ended up losing something much more valuable!
As we walked hand in hand towards the baggage claim, I squeezed Ella’s fingers, thankful for the perspective this chaotic flight had given me. Sometimes, the best lessons come from the worst experiences.
Have you ever encountered a nightmare neighbor on a flight? Share your own flight horror stories in the comments!
Kris Kristofferson, the actor from A Star Is Born and a country music legend, has passed away at the age of 88.
Kris Kristofferson, the much-loved actor and country music singer-songwriter, passed away at his home in Maui on September 28.
Kris Kristofferson, the famous actor and country singer-songwriter, has passed away at the age of 88.
A representative said he was surrounded by his family and died “peacefully” at his home in Maui on Saturday, September 28.
In a statement shared with PEOPLE, his family said, “It is with heavy hearts that we share the news that our husband, father, and grandfather, Kris Kristofferson, passed away peacefully at home on Saturday. We feel so blessed to have had our time with him. Thank you for loving him all these years, and when you see a rainbow, know he’s smiling down at us all.”
Kris Kristofferson was born on June 22, 1936, in Brownsville, Texas. His parents were Mary Ann and Lars Henry Kristofferson, who was a Swedish immigrant and an Air Force general. Kris developed a love for country music early on and wrote his first song, “I Hate Your Ugly Face,” when he was just 11 years old. As a military kid, he moved a lot before his family settled in San Mateo, California, during his teenage years.
According to his website, Kris had two short stories published in Atlantic Monthly when he was 18. In 1954, he went to Pomona College in California, where he played football, boxed in Golden Gloves competitions, and was the sports editor for the school newspaper. He was even featured in Sports Illustrated’s “Faces in the Crowd” issue in 1958. After graduating with a degree in creative writing, he earned a Rhodes Scholarship and completed his master’s in English literature at Oxford University in 1960.
According to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, after college, Kris Kristofferson’s parents encouraged him to join the military. He enlisted in the U.S. Army and, within five years, became a helicopter pilot and reached the rank of captain. While stationed in West Germany in the early 1960s, he continued writing songs and formed a band with other soldiers. After his service, he was offered a job teaching English at West Point military academy.
However, during a visit to Nashville, Tennessee, while on leave, he rediscovered his love for music. This led him to leave the Army in 1965 and pursue a career in music full-time. In a 2010 interview, Kris said, “I just fell in love with the music community there. The older musicians really supported the newcomers, and it was a very soulful time. It was the best decision I ever made.”
In Nashville, Kris Kristofferson worked as a night janitor at Columbia Studios while submitting songs he wrote, like “For the Good Times” and “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down.” “For the Good Times” was first recorded by Bill Nash in 1968, but it became a hit when Ray Price released his version in 1970. The song appeared on Kristofferson’s debut album and earned a Grammy nomination for Best Country Song in 1972. It was even covered by soul legend Al Green.
Kristofferson’s song “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down,” also from his first album, was picked up by Ray Stevens and Johnny Cash. Cash’s version became a hit, winning Song of the Year at the 1970 CMA Awards and reaching No. 1 on the country charts.
Another famous Kristofferson song, “Me and Bobby McGee,” co-written with Fred Foster, was released on Janis Joplin’s posthumous 1971 album Pearl. The song became a massive hit, reaching No. 1 on the pop charts and earning two Grammy nominations in 1972. That same year, Kristofferson won his first Grammy for Best Country Song for Sammi Smith’s version of “Help Me Make It Through the Night.”
Throughout the 1970s, Kristofferson released more albums and hits, including “Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again)” and “Why Me,” which earned two Grammy nominations. He also worked with his second wife, singer Rita Coolidge, on several albums, winning two Grammys for their duets “From the Bottle to the Bottom” and “Lover Please.”
In a 1970 New York Times article, Kristofferson was described as “a poet more than a musician,” admired for his ability to connect country, pop, and underground music.
Kristofferson also became a successful actor, appearing in films like Cisco Pike (1972), Pat Garrett & Billy The Kid (1973), and Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974). Despite having no acting experience, he felt confident about acting and took on roles based on his understanding of the characters.
His big break came with his role as a troubled rock star in the 1976 remake of A Star Is Born, alongside Barbra Streisand. This role won him a Golden Globe for Best Actor in 1977. He later became known for playing Whistler in the Blade trilogy with Wesley Snipes.
Music was always a big part of Kris Kristofferson’s life. He teamed up with Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, and Willie Nelson to form the country supergroup The Highwaymen. Their first album, Highwayman, and its title song topped the country charts in 1985. The group released two more albums: Highwayman 2 in 1990 and The Road Goes On Forever in 1995.
Throughout his long career, Kristofferson received many awards, including three Grammys and a lifetime achievement award from the Recording Academy in 2014. He was also nominated for an Oscar in 1985 for Best Original Song for the movie Songwriter, in which he starred with Willie Nelson. In 2004, he was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame.
In 2013, Kristofferson shared his struggle with memory loss. At first, doctors thought he had Alzheimer’s, but it turned out to be Lyme disease, according to CBS News. His wife, Lisa Kristofferson, explained that once he got the right treatment, his condition improved quickly.
“He was on all these medications for things he didn’t have, and they had side effects,” Lisa told Rolling Stone in 2016. “But after treatment, he came back. There are still tough days, but some days he seems perfectly normal, and it’s easy to forget he’s even dealing with anything.”
After releasing his final studio album, The Cedar Creek Sessions, in 2016, Kris Kristofferson officially announced his retirement from music in 2021. He also shared that Morris Higham Management would be handling his estate.
Clint Higham, president of the management company, praised Kristofferson, saying, “He is the artist that every artist wants to be. If there were a Mount Rushmore for songwriters, Kris would be on it.”
When asked about the secret to life in a 2017 interview with Men’s Journal, Kristofferson said, “I once made a list of rules. It said: Tell the truth, sing with passion, work with laughter, and love with heart. That’s a good place to start.”
Kris Kristofferson is survived by his wife, Lisa, along with his eight children and seven grandchildren.
He was first married to Frances Beer, and they had two children: daughter Tracy, born in 1962, and son Kris, born in 1968. With his second wife, Rita Coolidge, he had a daughter named Casey in 1974. Kris and Lisa have five children together: Jesse (born in 1983), Jody (1985), John (1988), Kelly Marie (1990), and Blake (1994).
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