My entitled husband bought first class for himself and his mother, leaving me in economy with the children. But I wasn’t going to just sit there. I made sure his “luxury” experience had some turbulence, transforming his flight into a lesson he will never forget.
Clark volunteered to book the flights, and I thought, “Great, one less thing for me to worry about.”
Oh, how naive I was.
“Clark, honey, where are our seats?” I asked.
Clark, my dear husband of eight years, was busy tapping away on his phone. “Oh, um, about that…” he mumbled, not even looking up.
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. “What do you mean, ‘about that’?”
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