In mom years, you don’t just turn one year older, you magically enter a birthday category marked by a complex exponential algorithm that calculates “actual aged human years” by factoring in weight of toddler, babysitting hours, amount of housework, severity of tantrums, and number of times a day you have to answer, “What is that?”
(1) Buy your two-year-old her own set of kid-sized headphones. So she can watch all the Yo Gabba Gabba she wants on your souped up iPhone. (Which, incidentally, will be loaded with YGG and Shaun the Sheep episodes, backed with a $50 battery life extender).
(2) Pray that the airliner carries ice-cream on demand.
(3) Smuggle her onboard as a pet. People seem more forgiving of animals than toddlers, I’m not sure why. Either way, she can pass off as a ridiculously cute miniature giraffe or mutant chihuahua.
(4) Keep at least five hamburgers in your carry-on bag for emergency feedings.
(5) Do not, under any circumstances, forget to bring baby doll on board.
Those failing, you can always train your toddler to turn on the Cute.
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