“Excuse me, this is my seat. Could you please have your child move?” Looking at the kid bouncing on my seat, I triple-checked my ticket just to make sure I wasn’t on the wrong train or in the wrong place. Work had been insane, and I hadn’t been home for the holidays in three years. This year, I finally got a ticket, and I was all smiles, chatting with Mom and Dad on the phone before boarding. But that smile didn't last ten minutes before it was wiped clean off my face. I glanced around, but no one seemed to claim the kid. “Hey! Who are you? What do you think you’re doing touching my kid?!” I was just about to grab the kid’s arm, but my hand froze mid-air. I looked at the woman sitting right behind my seat. Just a moment ago, when I’d asked around, she’d been loudly munching on chips without a care in the world. Now, suddenly, she was a fiercely protective mama bear. The kid in the seat showed no sign of fear. Instead, his eyes darted around, fast and calculating. I’m not usually judgmental, but he didn’t look like an innocent child at all. His eyes screamed ‘trouble,’ like he was already plotting something evil. Being able to go home for Christmas had put me in a great mood. I just pointed at the kid’s mother, not wanting to argue any further. But she wasn't having it. “What kind of girl are you? You look so young, yet you’re trying to hit my son!” “He’s just a kid, he doesn’t know any better! Besides, it’s not *your* seat, is it? When you take public transport, you can’t be so picky!” Hearing that, I sized her up. “Oh, so your son gets to act like that because he’s young? Sounds like he’s pretty wild and untamed.” It took her a moment to catch my meaning. She started flailing her arms, ready to grab me, just as the conductor came by to check tickets. She huffed and grudgingly sat down, shooting me a dirty look. Someone glaring at me isn't going to make me lose a piece of myself. Years of corporate life had forged in me an incredible capacity for patience. My home is across the country from where I work. By plane, I could be home in two hours, but of course, I couldn't get a ticket. This train ride would take me an entire day to get home. I’d barely been seated for ten minutes when my seatback started vibrating like it had an angry massage chair built into it. Kick after kick, with an incredibly strong rhythm. I gritted my teeth, turned around, and tried to talk to the woman. “Can you please control your child? He’s constantly kicking my seatback, can’t you see that?” The woman looked up, gave me a quick glance, then went back to filming her kid on her phone. “Aww, Jaxie’s such a good boy! So full of energy!” “It’s all thanks to the energy boost supplements Jaxie’s been taking! Otherwise, where would he get all that strength?!” Cheered on by his mom’s praise, Jax kicked even harder, full of vigor. He was having a blast, but I was the one suffering. “Are you going to control him or not?! If you can’t, then don’t bring him out in public!” With that, I reached out and firmly grabbed the kid’s raised leg. That finally got his mom to stop pretending to be deaf.