I never had any siblings growing up, but my wife has a younger brother, and she backed up one thing I always was told about young siblings…

…they spend a lot of time arguing over who touched/hit/slapped/poked/tickled/whatever who in the first place, and the exasperated parents saying something like, “Just don’t touch each other!”

They then spend the next several minutes with their fingers hovering inches (or centimeters) away from their siblings, saying, “I’m not touching you! Iiii’mmmm nooot tooouchiiinng yooouuu!” as their sibling wails.

This was on my mind as we flew out of Kosovo and, yes, carefully flew all the way around the border of Serbia, not touching them.

Why didn’t we fly immediately west, towards Italy, and straight-line it towards central Europe? I have no idea; maybe it was a political decision, maybe it was some sort of aeronautical thing having to do with weather, wind, air traffic, or something. But as we orbited our way out of Serbian airspace, I thought of “I’m not touching yooouuu…!”