When I was flying back from Rotorua last week there was an agitated boy sitting directly behind who kept wailing “Quois Mama? Quois?” He thumped the plane wall and sulked about the trip he was going on.
He then proceeded to wheeze and cough the phlegmiest coughs for the duration of the flight – without covering his mouth.
I have a question for him! Why don’t you cover your mouth? I am so ill. I blame him.
(By the way, that medicine is the worst I have ever tasted, avoid).
Pigalina's Palace 