There Should Absolutely Be Flights Where Kids Are Banned

Sign up for the Slatest to get the most insightful analysis, criticism, and advice out there, delivered to your inbox daily.

There’s a picture of me, my husband, and my son on the first flight we took together. Our kid is fast asleep with his mouth open, wearing the zip-up avocado costume I’d strategically dressed him in on the theory that the increased cuteness would counteract any judgment we faced from strangers if he decided to have a meltdown. We’d thrown our first-time-parent screen-time neurosis out the window and loaded up a tablet with Blippi episodes; it was ready to be turned on the moment he opened his eyes. Headphones were already in place. A backpack bursting with lollipops, snacks, and brand-new toys was at my feet, so big that it wouldn’t quite go under the seat in front of me. My husband and I are both smiling in a way that looks absolutely blissful, but the actual emotion we felt was relief. Relief that the 1½-year-old had passed out upon boarding, and that we wouldn’t have to spend a flight apologizing and dodging evil eyes from our fellow passengers. It was relief like I’d never felt before.

You know what would have also provided that relief? The availability of kid-free flights, and the knowledge that anyone who really didn’t want to hear an inconsolable toddler screaming “No! No! No!” could have booked one.

That’s why my reaction to the news that “JetBlue Vacations and Virgin Voyages are teaming up to leave the kids behind with a brand-new adults-only vacation from airport to sea”—including an adults-only flight—was: “Finally! We need more of this.”

By “we” I don’t mean people who want to travel in peace.  I mean parents.

If airlines offered plentiful options exclusive to people over the age of 18, dads and moms like me—the kind with people-pleasing tendencies and a desire to avoid being complained about in someone’s social-media rant about their miserable travel experience and the failures of gentle parenting—could relax. Intellectually, I agree with the “my kids are part of society and you will deal with them” camp. But I’m just not there emotionally. In general, I’m loath to make a scene or bother people. Young children, of course, are notorious for having a very different perspective. And that can make things tense, to put it mildly. It’s why we hear stories of parents boarding with an infant and preemptively handing out cute bags of earplugs and apologetic notes, trying to butter up fellow passengers who will have to hear crying or smell poop. It’s why some parents of screamy kids feel they’re obligated to buy a round of drinks for their row as a gesture of goodwill, and to dull the senses of the travelers around them.

If kid-free flights were widely available, those who do not want to be subjected to the antics of little ones would obviously celebrate. Luxurious travel with no need for noise-canceling headphones sounds great, and I love that for them.

But the real winners would be moms like me. Instead of praying for a four-hour block of time without tantrums or seat-kicking and wondering whether I should compensate my seatmates for any disturbance, I could simply think: I hope all goes well. But if anyone is really bothered by kids, they should have chosen an 18-and-over flight. That thought would give me almost as much relief as a perfectly timed long nap.