I Flew Economy Class with My Three Kids While My Husband and MIL Luxuriated in Business — Then Karma Turned the Tables

Emily’s screen stopped working 10 minutes after takeoff, and she sobbed like her world had ended.

Max refused every snack I offered, then screamed he was starving. Lucy threw up on my coat, shirt, and somehow my hair.

The woman across the aisle shot me withering looks.

I kept apologizing while silently cursing my husband’s name.

What came next made the flight feel like a walk in the park.

Somewhere above the clouds, Derek sent exactly one text: “Hope they’re good. Lol!

:)”

I stared at those words and felt something inside me crack. I didn’t respond.

When we landed, I dragged three exhausted kids through the airport while Derek and Cynthia glided past us, refreshed and laughing about their “divine” flight.

“The champagne was exceptional,” Cynthia said loudly as they walked by. “Wasn’t it, Derek?”

“Best I’ve ever had, Mom!” he agreed.

They didn’t offer to help with the luggage.

That should’ve been my first clue about what was really coming.

The trip itself was torture I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

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