If you’ve traveled with young kids, you know the look. It’s a mixture of contempt and sorrow, loathing and dread. It registers on the faces of your fellow passengers, diners, people standing in line to rent a car/check into a hotel/buy sunscreen/secure a pool towel. The moment they see you, it registers. They need this vacation. They need to escape their email/rekindle their marriage/reclaim their time, and you’ve had the temerity to bring small, unpredictable humans into the mix. Their peace will be disrupted. Their flight will be cacophonous. Their mellow will be harshed. And it’s all your f…
