The flight has been going pretty well so far. Wheels up, we’re in the air for a while, no major problems. Looks like life is going to be good. And then, I smelled something… no… couldn’t be… has someone soiled themselves? I look around and to my left across the aisle a mother is changing her son on the tray table. Yes, the tray table gets soiled in this exchange. NEVER…. EVER… eat anything off a tray table people.
When she’s done, she takes Junior’s wet Onesie and hold it up to the blower above her head to try it. You can imagine what that did for the poor people sitting behind her.
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Wait… you actually think those tray tables are clean?
Come on people, this is an airplane..not Greyhound!
You'd have better luck with the bacteria count on a Greyhound, actually…