I’m on a flight more than halfway between Houston (Hobby) and Dallas (DWF). I’m in the clouds, flying instruments, and the turbulence is moderate to severe. I wish I was on the ground. This day truly sucks. Air traffic control’s calling. “Twin Cessna 6642 Charlie, contact approach, 126.3, maintain one-two-thousand (12,000 feet).” “Roger, contact approach, 26.3, maintain one-two thousand, 42 Charlie.” Bam, we’re hit again with another bad updraft. Son of a… As I’m quietly mouthing words of profanity, a bad updraft catches my mouth while it’s in the open position, my jaws snap shut, and I bite my lip. Oh, no, now the little ...