But peace, as it turned out, had other plans.

The Constant Kicking and the Never-Ending Questions

It started with chatter. Not the usual kind of polite, bored conversation — but the boundless energy of a seven-year-old boy sitting directly behind me. He fired questions at his mother like a machine gun of curiosity:
“Why do clouds move?”
“Do birds ever get tired?”
“Can airplanes race each other?”

At first, I smiled — faintly amused, maybe even nostalgic for a time when my own curiosity had been that pure. But the novelty wore off quickly. His voice was loud, sharp, impossible to tune out.

And then came the kicks.