Shortly after I boarded my plane I heard from the seat behind me what sounded like a young father, probably somewhere around the age of my son-in-law Justin, trying to deal with two cranky little boys, who, from the pitch and quality of their fretting I guessed to be around the ages of my own grand daughters, who are four and two.
Through talking, cajoling, wheedling, praising, warning, barganning and beseeching, the young father finally got the boys fairly quieted down, content and occupied with their leggos. Then the baby apparently grabbed one of his older brother's pieces and bopped him on the head in the bargain.
Thus with the plane about to take off there was sudden kid-induced chaos behind me, crying and unsatisfactory attempts at hushing and calming, and more crying, followed by a warning of consequences by the frazzled father, followed by more crying that suddenly escalated to the next level, a high-pitched crescendo of operatic wailing.
Now, the scene that next transpired gave me the idea for my TV commercial, which I've named Jelly Bellys To The Rescue.
So here's my Madison Avenue pitch for Jelly Bellys To The Rescue:
Sitting on a crowded plane waiting for take-off a young father tries to calm two fussy young children. As one then another of the children begins wailing, the passengers in the vicinity of the children start turning and shooting annoyed looks at the frazzled father and his out-of-control charges.
But an older, grandmotherly-looking lady sitting in front of them looks at the stickers on her hand,
She glances over her shoulder at the crying children behind her then reaches into her purse for a bag of Jelly Bellys,
The woman looks around the seat and catches the attention of the young father who gives her a defensive look until she offers him the handful of Jelly Bellys, which he accepts with a grateful smile.
"Here, guys, want some Jelly Bellys?" the father asks.
Where all other methods have failed, a couple of Jelly Bellys succeeds in distracting the children from their distress, They calm down and get back to their coloring.
The man leans around the seat and thanks the woman again. "Oh, don't worry dear," she says and adds, "twenty years from now these days will be all happy memories." The woman then looks again at the stickers on her hand, sighs, and pops a Jelly Belly into her mouth.
So, what do you think? Should I quit my day job?