Fair warning: bodily functions might be discussed, in possibly needless detail.
The Plan: Meet Mimi at the theater because she had to teach until 6:00 and then stay to watch a rehearsal. Get some takeout, have a picnic at the Choo-Choo Train Park (not its real name), have a good time, then take Kiddo home. Also, it was New Comic Book Day so I was, briefly, Best Dad Ever for favoring Kiddo with this:
Not pictured: it smells like strawberry. Yes, really.
What Happened: Got to the theater a little early. Gave Kiddo a snack of possibly-too-old cheddar bunnies and an orange drink from the vending machine in the lobby. Mimi finished her class and we piled in the car to go get dinner. Kiddo starts complaining of a stomach ache.
Side Note: she's been a little bit of "the girl who cried stomach ache" the past couple of months so we never know if her stomach really hurts or if she's just creating drama.
Pretty soon, we realized she wasn't messing around. Her face was all screwed up with a look of pain and she was kind of doubled-over. As soon as we got to the restaurant, Mimi whisked her to the bathroom. We figured she had to "make a deposit" but nothing doing. So mother and child waited in the car while I waited for the food but Kiddo wasn't doing so hot. She was curled up in a ball on Mimi's lap, moaning, and her face was sort of ashen. Mimi didn't want to put her in the carseat right away as the pain had been coming and going so we were waiting for it to go before we moved.
I got in the driver's seat and started the car so I could turn on the A/C. Then I heard Mimi say, "Oh. OH! Oh. Okay, here we go," followed by... let's just call it a splashing sound. Without bothering to look, I went to the back of the car to get our emergency bag (wipes, towels, change of clothes). I handed Mimi a towel and a bag of wipes and turned to wipe the evidence off of Kiddo. That didn't go so well, as whatever wasn't on Mimi's shirt and pants and leg and socks and shoes had soaked into Kiddo's shirt and pants and leg and socks and shoes. Joy.
Poor Mimi really took one for the team. She looked like she'd been hit by a hose (a hose that sprays bits of food and smells vaguely like cheddar bunnies). I had a complete change of clothes for Kiddo and there was a sort-of-clean shirt of mine in the car that Mimi put on before we went back to the theater. No, our picnic was not going to happen.
I sat outside with Kiddo for a while (with her in my lap but facing away from me... just in case) while Mimi went inside to change. Yes, if you're going to be covered in your child's vomit, it's good to have access to a costume shop.
And still, she makes it work.
Kiddo was feeling a little better but at one point I saw Mimi run toward the bathroom with Kiddo in her arms (she was sprinting, really). When they came back Mimi said, "I think she got the rest of it." And I think we can leave it at that.
Kiddo is resting (though still not sleeping even though it is after 10:00 -- but that's a tirade for another day), laundry is done and somebody might be staying home from school tomorrow. All in all I'd have rather had the picnic.
The Plan: Meet Mimi at the theater because she had to teach until 6:00 and then stay to watch a rehearsal. Get some takeout, have a picnic at the Choo-Choo Train Park (not its real name), have a good time, then take Kiddo home. Also, it was New Comic Book Day so I was, briefly, Best Dad Ever for favoring Kiddo with this:
Not pictured: it smells like strawberry. Yes, really.What Happened: Got to the theater a little early. Gave Kiddo a snack of possibly-too-old cheddar bunnies and an orange drink from the vending machine in the lobby. Mimi finished her class and we piled in the car to go get dinner. Kiddo starts complaining of a stomach ache.
Side Note: she's been a little bit of "the girl who cried stomach ache" the past couple of months so we never know if her stomach really hurts or if she's just creating drama.
Pretty soon, we realized she wasn't messing around. Her face was all screwed up with a look of pain and she was kind of doubled-over. As soon as we got to the restaurant, Mimi whisked her to the bathroom. We figured she had to "make a deposit" but nothing doing. So mother and child waited in the car while I waited for the food but Kiddo wasn't doing so hot. She was curled up in a ball on Mimi's lap, moaning, and her face was sort of ashen. Mimi didn't want to put her in the carseat right away as the pain had been coming and going so we were waiting for it to go before we moved.
I got in the driver's seat and started the car so I could turn on the A/C. Then I heard Mimi say, "Oh. OH! Oh. Okay, here we go," followed by... let's just call it a splashing sound. Without bothering to look, I went to the back of the car to get our emergency bag (wipes, towels, change of clothes). I handed Mimi a towel and a bag of wipes and turned to wipe the evidence off of Kiddo. That didn't go so well, as whatever wasn't on Mimi's shirt and pants and leg and socks and shoes had soaked into Kiddo's shirt and pants and leg and socks and shoes. Joy.
Poor Mimi really took one for the team. She looked like she'd been hit by a hose (a hose that sprays bits of food and smells vaguely like cheddar bunnies). I had a complete change of clothes for Kiddo and there was a sort-of-clean shirt of mine in the car that Mimi put on before we went back to the theater. No, our picnic was not going to happen.
I sat outside with Kiddo for a while (with her in my lap but facing away from me... just in case) while Mimi went inside to change. Yes, if you're going to be covered in your child's vomit, it's good to have access to a costume shop.
And still, she makes it work.Kiddo was feeling a little better but at one point I saw Mimi run toward the bathroom with Kiddo in her arms (she was sprinting, really). When they came back Mimi said, "I think she got the rest of it." And I think we can leave it at that.
Kiddo is resting (though still not sleeping even though it is after 10:00 -- but that's a tirade for another day), laundry is done and somebody might be staying home from school tomorrow. All in all I'd have rather had the picnic.
Comments
Congratulations for handling a puke-fest with grace and style. As per usual.
xo
gibs