We'd just boarded the plane and buckled ourselves into our seats. All 4 of us - Mum, Dad, and 2 daughters. We were - yipee! - on our way to Ireland for our summer holidays.
"Daddy, why is there a picture of a cigarette on the "NO TALKING" sign?", asked my 4.5 year old daughter, Aisling.
Damn the nursery school and their "if you smoke you will die" campaign. If I didn't think fast, our little white lie would end over two years of (relatively) silent flights.
In an instant, I explained to her that it was not a picture of a cigarette, but a picture of a little girls tongue which had caught on fire at the tip because she talked too much during the flight. "And that", I said, "was why it was called the no talking sign".
Aisling looked towards her Mum suspiciously, like she does when ever I tell her something vaguely doubtable, "It's not is it Mum?".
Her Mum - who favors honesty over peace and quiet - said "No" and then told her the truth.
So I told her about Santa.
[But, of course, I didn't: I favor peace and quiet over truth].
