There are no bad kids, just dumb ass parents.*

*Alternative title: when bad parents happen to good cell phones.

So I'm a flight back from the enchanting city of Indianapolis, Indiana, on Sunday. I was pretty excited because we checked in online the night before so I was able to get a sweet seat at the front of the plane, seat 2C. When I boarded the plane I realized, oh so late, that it was the seat from hell. In the row in front of me sat: 1B: dad, holding a 16 month old crying baby, 1C, sister, running around the first row, 1D, mom, holding the other 16 month old crying baby. If you're clever, you know now that they were twins.

Dutifully, I placed my carry-ons under the seat in front of me. Included in my big ass bag: my PowerBook G4, running shoes, assorted paper products and gum. Weight: 165 pounds. Kidding, it only feels that way when you're dragging it through the airport in cute but inappropriate shoes. Included in my purse: wallet, lipstick, brush, Palm Treo 650 and Bluetooth headset.

Being exhausted, I dozed in and out while being soothed by the screeeeetching of the darling little angel 16 month old twins. Somehow I missed the beverage service while napping. About 30 minutes before landing, I got out my purse to check the time. This is when I found it.

My purse had this cute little pocket on the side into which my Treo fit perfectly. I had turned off the phone and zipped, yes, zipped, it closed before placing it under the seat. The same seat in which the child in 1C was "sitting."

In this cute this pocket I discovered about 8 ounces of orange juice, a soggy boarding pass, and my, wait for it... Treo 650 and Bluetooth headset.

I poured out the juice onto the floor and caught the eye of mom in 1D. She quickly looked away, guiltily. Then I got up to get some napkins from the oblivious flight attendents. They just looked at me like, huh? Why would you need napkins? When I told them that their was juice in my purse and my phone was ruined, they continued to stare at me like I had two heads.

In vain, I tried to clean off the phone. I also was trying to figure out what to say to the family in front of me, whose darling little toddler had clearly either spilled or poured the juice into my purse. We were flying one day after the Glasgow airport incident, so I tried very hard to remain calm as to not draw the attention of an air marshall or the flight crew who would most likely have had the authorities waiting for me had I done what I really wanted to do.

When we deplaned, deboarded, dewhatever, I stopped the father and mother. The mom kept walking with the toddler and crying baby #1. I tried very hard not to come out and accuse him of anything, but I soon realized that was the wrong tactic:

me: hi, I was sitting in the seat behind your child and some how, not sure, but some how a bunch of juice ended up in my purse and ruined my cell phone. I'm not really sure what to do about this, can you help me?

him: huh? what?

me: yeah, as I said, the phone doesn't work anymore because juice was either spilled or poured into my purse where my phone was. What should I do about that?

him: Wellll, I didn't see any juice spilled.

me: hmm?

him: Do you have insurance for it?

me: why would I have insurance for your child spilling juice into my purse and ruining my phone?

him: I have insurance and it's only like $5 a month and it covers anything happening.

me: yeah, as I said, that's not the issue.

him: I'll go look and see if there's any signs of a spill... [runs into plane]

me: WTF?

him: [returning] yeah, I didn't see anything.

me: well, clearly, juice got in my purse and ruined my phone. I'm sure what to do about it, but I think you owe me something.

him: [dumbfounded stare] I'm sorry.

me: What?

him: I'm sorry.

me: Is that all you are going to say? That's all you have to say about this?

him: I don't think there's anything I need to do for you.

me: What? Look, my cell phone is ruined, you owe me something. It's a $500 phone that is now a $500 paperweight. What are you going to do about that?

him: I'm sorry.

me: Can I get your contact information then?

him: I'm sorry, no. I don't think that I need to do anything for you.

me: Wow. I'm really, just... look I'm sure it's hard to travel with children, but you need to pay more attention to what they are doing.

him: I'm doing the best I can.

me: yeah, I'm sure you are. However, you need to pay more attention to your children because now you've just inconvenienced me and won't do anything about it.

him: I'm sorry. [runs away, refuses to look at me]

If this was you, by the by, fess up because I'm taking your ass to small claims court. I will find you. Check my bio, I'm OCD. Emphasis on the O for Obsessive. Like a dog on a scent. Like a fly on shit.

I went to the airline and they were very sorry and apologetic. I called their corporate office and the only way they will give me the passenger contact information is with a subpoena. Like that's a problem. I watch more Law & Orders than any non-lawyer on the planet. Had the small claims court paperwork figured out by 8 am Monday. My attorney client is giving me pointers. I have to sue the airline in order to get to the passenger. It's the dad I want. I almost don't even care about the money. It's the matter of him walking away from something his child did to another person. It was his attitude that he had no responsibility to me for what she did.

I want him to know that it was wrong and he can't walk away from it.

So if you know the family who was sitting in seats 1B, 1C and 1D on Frontier flight 619 from Indy to Denver on July 1, 2007, let them know I'm coming. Tell 'em to have their checkbook ready.

Dun-dun.

In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate but equally important groups...

Dun-dun.