As we settled into our seats, the cabin buzzed with excitement, a mix of holidaymakers and seasoned travellers. I glanced down at my two-year-old, wriggling in their seatbelt, eyes wide with anticipation. The plane was a marvel to them—a great metal bird poised to leap into the sky.

“Look, darling! We’re going to fly!” I said, trying to match their energy. I had prepared for this moment, armed with a backpack full of toys, snacks, and a trusty tablet loaded with their favourite shows. The flight attendants weaved down the aisle, offering smiles and reassurance, reminding me that we were in capable hands.

Just before take-off, the safety demonstration began. I attempted to capture my little one's attention, pointing out the exits and the life jackets, but their focus was already drifting to the window, mesmerised by the bustling ground crew. With a gentle squeeze of their hand, I reminded them to look out for the big push back and the rumbling engines. Their giggles filled the cramped space, a comforting reminder that even in the chaos of air travel, joy could still take flight.