A light tap against the back of my seat. Then another. Then another — rhythmic, persistent, impossible to ignore.

I turned around politely, forcing a tired smile. “Hey, buddy, could you try not to kick the seat? I’m a little tired.”

His mother gave me an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, he’s just excited about flying.”

“No problem,” I said. I’ll be asleep in five minutes, I told myself.

But five minutes became ten, then twenty. The tapping turned into thumping — full, deliberate kicks that rattled my seat and my patience.

Losing My Patience — and My Calm