Dear ‘Daddy’ in Seat 16C – A Mother’s Touching Thank You To Kind Stranger On Airplane

Anyone who has ever travelled with kids will know that at times it can be an extremely difficult task.   The Mouland family had visited Disney World, Florida, and while travelling home on a flight from Orlando to Philadelphia, the parents were seated separately. Mum Shanell sat with 3-year-old daughter, Kate. who has autism, while her husband sat with their 5-year-old daughter, Grace. After Kate became obsessed with the window shade, Shanell decided she would sit her daughter in the middle, knowing that a stranger would have to share the row with them. Shanell became extremely anxious, as depending on her mood, Kate's behaviour can range from affectionate to hysterical. Mum Shanell with daughter Kate. A man sat down beside Kate and within moments was referred to as, "Daddy," by the 3-year-old. Instead of correcting her, the stranger interacted with the toddler, engaging in conversation to keep the little girl entertained. His gracious manner and kindness overwhelmed Shanell and the Mum-of-two felt compelled to write a post on her blog thanking Kate's on flight "Daddy". Posted on the 9th of January, titled Dear 'Daddy in Seat 16C Flight 1850 from Philly, the piece has received 66,000 likes on Facebook and was an instant viral hit online. The open letter received a massive response and within hours of posting the touching note of gratitude, "Daddy" had been located. Kate's new friend was businessman and father-of-one, Eric Kunkel. In an interview with Yahoo Shine Kunkel said: "I travel a lot for work, and Kate was, by far, the most well-behaved kid I've sat next to. "Shanelle is also an incredible parent, she didn't apologise for Kate and she shouldn't have, but she was very attentive to her." Read the full post from 'Go Team Kate' here: Dear "Daddy," I don't know your name, but Kate called you "daddy" for the entire flight last week and you kindly never corrected her. In fact, you didn't even flinch as you could probably tell that she was not confusing you with her own "daddy," but instead making a judgment regarding your level of "safety" for her. If she calls you "daddy" then you better believe she thinks you are alright. I sat Kate, my 3-year-old who has autism, in the middle seat knowing full well that there would be a stranger sitting next to her for the duration of this flight. I had to make a quick decision and based on her obsession with opening and closing the window shade, I figured she might be less of a distraction if she sat in the middle. I watched the entire Temple basketball team board the plane, and wondered if one of these giants might sit by Kate. They all moved toward the back. She would have liked that, she would have made some observations that I would have had to deal with, but she would have liked those players. I watched many Grandmotherly women board and hoped for one to take the seat but they walked on by. For a fleeting moment I thought we might have a free seat beside us, and then you walked up and sat down with your briefcase and your important documents and I had a vision of Kate pouring her water all over your multi-million dollar contracts, or house deeds, or whatever it was you held. The moment you sat down, Kate started to rub your arm. Your jacket was soft and she liked the feel of it. You smiled at her and she said: "Hi, Daddy, that's my mom." Then she had you. You could have shifted uncomfortably in your seat. You could have ignored her. You could have given me that "smile" that I despise because it means; "manage your child please." You did none of that. You engaged Kate in conversation and you asked her questions about her turtles. She could never really answer your questions but she was so enamored with you that she kept eye contact and joint attention on the items you were asking her about. I watched and smiled. I made a few polite offers to distract her, but you would have none of it. Kate: (Upon noticing you had an iPad) Is dis Daddy's puduter? You: This is my iPad. Would you like to see it? Kate: To me?????? (I know she thought you were offering it to her to keep) Me: Look with your eyes, Kate. That is not yours. Kate: Dat's nice! You: (Upon noticing that Kate had an iPad) I like your computer, too. It has a nice purple case. Kate: Daddy wanna be a bad guy? (She offered shredder to you and that, my friend, is high praise) You: Cool. The interaction went on and on and you never once seemed annoyed. She gave you some moments of peace while she played with her Anna and Elsa dolls. Kind of her to save you from playing Barbies, but I bet you wouldn't have minded a bit. I bet you have little girls, too. Not long before we landed Kate had reached her limit. She screamed to have her seatbelt off, she screamed for me to open the plane door and she cried repeating, "Plane is cwosed (closed)" over and over. You tried to redirect her attention to her toys. She was already too far gone at this point, but the fact that you tried to help your new little friend made me emotional. In case you are wondering, she was fine the moment we stepped off the plane. Thank you for letting us go ahead of you. She was feeling overwhelmed and escaping the plane and a big, long hug was all she needed. So, thank you. Thank you for not making me repeat those awful apologetic sentences that I so often say in public. Thank you for entertaining Kate so much that she had her most successful plane ride, yet. And, thank you for putting your papers away and playing turtles with our girl.