But as soon as we sat down on the plane, the trouble began. Anna started crying nonstop. Nothing calmed her: not my arms, not her bottle, not my soft words. People around us sighed, rolled their eyes, and I felt shame tightening around my heart.
Then a man behind us exploded:
“Can you make that kid shut up?!”
I answered softly,
“I… I’m trying.”
But he shouted even louder:
“Trying isn’t enough! Why should I have to put up with this when I paid for my ticket?!”
Tears welled in my eyes.
“I’m really sorry… I’m doing everything I can,” I whispered.
He yelled one last time:
