When my wife, son and I left for New York three weeks ago, we briefly fantasized about buying business class tickets. I checked the price, uttered a horrified yelp and quickly abandoned the thought.

So reconciling ourselves to aches, cramps, bruises, stiffness, crick in the neck, numbness of the posterior, swollen feet and a general feeling of ill-will and irritation, we arrived at the airport and unexpectedly got upgraded to business class for two of our three seats.

As we entered the plane and approached the crew, I assumed a sad, puppy dog expression hoping they would melt and find a way of giving us another business class ticket so the family could sit together. But the airhostess was not to be swayed by mere sentiment. ‘So which one of you is it going to be?’ she asked heartlessly, pointing to the economy cabin. I half expected my sturdy teenager son to volunteer, leaving the business class seats for his aging parents. But the lad took a step or two towards business and then simply turned deaf to the ongoing conversation. My wife too edged towards my son leaving me by myself. So I volunteered to take the economy seat. I sat there for hours mentally willing myself to shrink in order to fit into the seat. Some hours later, my wife took pity on me and offered to exchange seats for the rest of the flight.

I walked over to business expecting that when my son sees me, he would be bathed in guilt. I couldn’t have been more wrong. ‘Hello’ he said, nodding briefly in his direction before going back to his smart phone.

PG Bhaskar is a private banker and has authored several books. He tries hard to keep up with the times @bhaskarpg and www.pgbhaskar.com. Look out for his weekly humor column on B-Change Saturdays.