I’m back from vacation and ~~~ well it wasn’t really a vacation per se. I used to think a vacation meant sandy beaches or gorgeous scenery or, at the least, extra sleep. But I have a toddler!
Now vacations mean family – and you know, that’s not so bad. Actually, it’s quite nice to get to see so much of my little munchkin and my husband, and the extended family as well.
But here’s how we started off the vacation: we’re in the car on the way to the airport, nearly at the cheapie parking place that we use (I say cheapie in comparison to the airport parking, but it’s still friggin $11 per day. Anyway.) We’ve just pulled off the highway and the munchkin makes a funny noise. She’d been quiet a while, and suddenly this weird noise. Husband and I say, in unison, “what was that?” In response, munchkin vomits. A lot. All over herself. I’m screaming “ohgodohgodohgod” as I start rolling down the window and picking up the vomit with my fingers and tossing it out the window, now screaming “pullovermoigod pull over!!” At this point she makes the noise again, so what do I do? Of course, I cup my hands and catch the next wave – or as much of it as I can – and start hurling that out the window as well. Like a bunch of clueless sailors who’ve sprung a smelly gross leak.
So. We pull the car over near a warehouse, munchkin gets out and skips happily over to play with a piece of rusty chain, and husband and I begin the process of cleaning as quickly as possible (to avoid missing the airplane) with the small amount of cleaning supplies that we have (half a pack of diaper wipes.) We got munchkin changed, inexplicably played a game of ring around the rosie, and were back on track for a relatively uneventful (albeit smelly) series of flights to the in-laws.
Phew. So that’s how it started.