Wednesday, April 22, 2009


So. Yesterday. Lucy was a bit under the weather. I sent Max to school, because he was at least awake - which is more then I could say for the little Miss.

And in the afternoon, which was spent sleeping, she woke up in time for us to take Max to TaeKwonDo. And Max wanted to go. And I *so* didn't want to go ANYWHERE. But I did. And on the way down the mountain, Lucy coughed. And then, burped. And then, you can guess exactly what happened all over my backseat.

We tore into town, Max hanging his entire upper body out the window gagging, Lucy crying and spitting. I came to a screeching halt at the dojo, Max leaped out and slammed the door on the contamination just barely contained within, and I turned around and headed home.

And the whole drive home, I just kept wishing that there was a grownup around to help me deal with this mess. That there had been a grownup available to drive Max to the dojo. And I am not talking about Sami. I needed my mom.

An hour later, after hosing off the car seat and the surrounding area with my garden hose, and giving Lucy a bath and washing the chunks out of her golden hair (and out of mine) the door opened - a half hour ahead of schedule.

Turns out, Max hadn't really felt well enough for class. So my mad rush to get him there on time was ultimately just to have Sami drive him right back home again. Only Sami's backseat wasn't filled with barf.

Lucky man.

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