And there's an hour and a quarter to go before we reach our destination, so he's going nowhere fast.
He's obviously finding my pudgy little upper arm extremely comfortable, snuggling in with his equally pudgy little head as though his head and my arm were made for each other, sisters and brothers, la la la.
These strategies to get him off my arm did not work:
coughing and trying to pronounce it, 'I MIGHT have swine flu' turning the pages of my book in as dramatic and rustly a way as possible as though it were the Encyclopaedia Brittanica and not Margaret Atwood's 'The Handmaid's Tale' (oh, the irony!!!)leaning over to the left myself until he was vertical, then pulling away quicklytaking a mega-sigh which involved my whole body (and his)wriggling as far as I could towards the window without his head actually falling into my lap and causing a far more worryi…