Dear Group of Children Aggressively Yelling “SIX SEVEN” in the Airport

Dear Group of Children Aggressively Yelling “SIX SEVEN” in the Airport,

I do not know what “six seven” means.

I do not know where you learned it.

I do not know who started this chant.

What I do know is that you have been yelling it for 42 uninterrupted minutes inside a crowded terminal where everyone is already emotionally fragile.

Six seven.

SIX SEVEN.

Six seven six seven SIX SEVEN.

Is it a math problem? A TikTok ritual? A summoning spell? Are we opening a portal? Should I be concerned? Because based on the volume and enthusiasm, it feels like you are trying to awaken something ancient near Gate E12.

The repetition is truly impressive. No variation. No growth. No arc. Just six. Seven. Over and over like a broken airport announcement that even the TSA has given up on stopping.

Parents are present. I see them. They are scrolling. They have accepted defeat. Meanwhile the rest of us are making eye contact with strangers like survivors of a shared trauma.

Sir.

Ma’am.

Tiny human.

We are tired. We are emotionally full. We are one more “six seven” away from starting a counter chant of our own and it will not be child friendly.

If this is a game, congratulations. You won. If it is a trend, I beg you to let it die here at this airport among the abandoned neck pillows and broken dreams.

Sincerely,

Passenger Who Now Has “Six Seven” Echoing in His Brain Forever

(currently questioning reality and boarding group assignments)