On the way back from the east coast, I used the free wifi on the plane (a Christmas present from Virgin and Google) to report:

Surrounded by little kids on this flight. Everyone keeping it together fairly well, except for the 1-year-old behind me who is channeling The Beast. Tell it, tiny Satan!

This was just before the toddler in my row started shrieking in short bursts, which inspired Tiny Satan to shriek as well, causing a call-and-response that definitely will be the Muzak that will accompany my elevator ride to hell.

I was sitting next to the toddler’s older brother, who was fairly well-behaved, except for the inability to honor personal space. He was pretty cute when he realized that, when looking out the window, those weren’t snowballs down there, those were clouds! His dad (on the other side of him, in the aisle seat,) had it good. The mom was across the aisle, dealing with the toddler, who was channeling her intolerance of all the injustice in the world.

The flight, the long long flight, ended. The toddler was shuffled into the seat next to mine while the parents were wrangling the overhead luggage. Physically, she was really cute — blond, cherubic features that masked her dark and evil soul. This transcript was not exaggerated in any way. Imagine the all caps dialog in a gutteral scream:

Me: I like your sparkly shirt. [note: this opener usually works, but not in this case]
Her: Well, I DON’T LIKE YOURS! [pummels my hands and forearms with her fists] What’s your name?
Me: Whoa there. My name is Becky.
Her: I HATE THAT NAME! [grabs her ladybug backpack and swings it at my head]
Me: You’re not supposed to hit, I’ll bet you know that.
Her: Well, I’ll PINCH YOU NOW! [pinches at my hands and arms]
Me: Or pinch. You know it’s wrong.
Her: [screaming] Eeeee! EEEEEEE!
Me: Or scream!
Mother: Ellen! [mouths to me] Sorry.

I waited till I was out of eye- and ear-shot before I started laughing. Meanwhile, they had to rush to get their connecting flight.