Hubs, the kids and I were heading down the road today with the radio blasting, the windows down, singing at the top of our lungs to a silly song that reminded me of something that happened this year, that I laugh about now.
Our Girl Scout troop had gone on a weekend camp out. I was driving, because I had just gotten a brand new car and it could hold a lot of Girl Scouts. This car was so new that my own kids had not even eaten as much as a cracker in it. It smelled good, and it was as clean as a whistle. I was glad to finally have plenty of room and a clean car to haul kids around in. Anyway, the Girl Scout camp out was fun. The girls hiked, played games, cooked food that really only they liked (because they had planned the meals); Coca Cola Chicken, yum, macaroni and cheese, yum, s'mores, yum. You get the picture. By the end of the day, they were all dirty, tired and tanked up on sugar. After all the campfire songs had been sung, and the last of the s'mores had been consumed, I packed up the car with my daughter and one of her little friends. We had to head back a day early.
We hadn't as much as gone around the block when the two little campers began asking to stop at Sonic. Well, being the kind and generous mother that I am, I stopped and bought them drinks and snacks, thinking, oh they're just tired of roughing it and want some artery clogging fast food to help regulate their little systems. Besides, what could sipping on a cherry limeade hurt anyway. It's not like these responsible little Girl Scouts will spill anything in my new car. We finally got on our way and seriously, we had not even gotten a mile from our campsite (and the Sonic) when my daughters little friend began asking "How much longer?". I thought to myself, this is gonna be a long car ride.
It was an uneventful ride home, except for the occasional inquiry of "How much longer?", which I noticed had become increasingly and alarmingly more regular. We had traveled almost an hour and a half when the announcement came. "I'M GONNA TROW UP!", declares my daughters little friend. " What?" I said, not really believing my ears. We're in my brand new car that still smells good and no one, and I mean no one, has even eaten so much as a cracker in it! "Hold on hun, we're almost home", I yell from the front seat, frantically looking for a place to pull over. There was no place to stop, and the palms of my hands were gettin' sweaty. Did I mention we're in my NEW clean car that still smells good. We're on the highway, there's traffic all around me, and no shoulder. Further more, I look out at the exits and the neighborhood is full of unsavory businesses and liquor stores, and I'm not about to let a little Girl Scout out in a dark liquor store parking lot to throw up! So I tell her in the cheeriest voice I could muster up, "roll down your window Hon, maybe a little fresh air will help". But before the word "help" was out of my mouth, up comes the Coca Cola Chicken. Eeeew, all over her lap, and my daughter was now sitting as close to the window on her side of the car as she could with out actually falling out. By then all of the windows were down, so I tell her "Hang your head out of the window, maybe you'll feel better", and up comes the macaroni and cheese. Mac and cheese sprays all over the inside and outside of the window. The wind catches it and blows it back into the car at 60 mph. Not just back onto the nauseated little camper, but onto the seat she is sitting on as well as the row of seats behind where she is sitting. Now I'm frantically looking for a place to pull over, and really, there is not a spot. Sadly, my searching for a safe spot to stop was all in vain, because once again up comes another "Heave Ho", the "Last Hurrah" in football you'd call it a "Hail Mary",...everything she had for dinner sprayed towards the window, coating the outside and inside of my once clean car, beginning at the door where she was sitting, all the way back to the rear bumper. I'm thinking to myself, she must have eaten the whole pot, I've never seen so much macaroni and cheese! I was in shock, all I could think to say was "Sweetheart, did you have seconds at dinner tonight?"
2 comments:
Oh my, the "last hurrah." I know exactly what you mean. It's difficult to describe moments like this to new parents.
I dream of having as much patience as you did!
One of my daughter's children threw up every time she was in our car. Don't know why. Her mom told me I made her daughter nervous. No apology. Just acted like it was all my fault. It is funny how parents react to things like that.
Sorry about your car!
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