I’ve always been the default babysitter in our family — tantrums at weddings diaper blowouts on road trips, you name it. But when my sister tried to assign me full in-flight childcare duties for our 10-hour trip to Rome, I finally said no. She didn’t ask — she demanded — assuming I had nothing better to do than wrangle her kids while she relaxed with her boyfriend. That’s when I quietly upgraded to business class using my miles and didn’t say a word.
At the airport, she arrived in her usual whirlwind — flustered, overloaded with bags, and juggling two cranky kids. I calmly handed my boarding pass over and broke the news: “I’m in business class.” The look on her face? Absolute disbelief. “You’re ditching me?” she gasped. I simply smiled. “You’ll manage.”