My worst nightmare: Flying with babies… in business class

First – let me set one thing straight before even kicking off this post: I love kids. We should all be more like them, have less responsibilities and sincerely enjoy life. Because by now I know the idea of “growing up” is a trap. Sure, I get to enjoy the occasional alcoholic beverage and do cool stuff like driving cars and motorcycles. But in the end of the day I got the same satisfaction out of driving my peddle-car. I just didn’t make it that far distance wise, but then again I didn’t care.

I also love kids while travelling – but in some cases I strongly dislike their parents. They show up at the airport tired and stressed, causing their little ones to be even more frustrated and cry (if not scream) for the entire duration of a 9 hour flight to Amsterdam. Sure, especially the very little ones might not understand what’s happening to them inside the cabin and might freak out or be in actual pain because the pressure is hurting their little ears. I get it. But that doesn’t last the ent…