The only thing worse than fighting traffic to get my kids to swimming lessons, is getting there late. Only to discover a dearth of parking, when I finally managed to find a spot it was almost at the end of the lot.
We get out of the car and run to the building, only to have my son blow chunks in the locker room. If motherhood is some type of a test, this morning definitely requires a retake.
Yup you read that correctly.
My poor daughter is prone to bouts of carsickness. The problem has gotten much better with age, but once in a while it happens. Luckily she can tell us when she starts feeling sick. The last couple of times she threw up outside of the car, thus facilitating a much easier clean-up.
On this particular day we went to the book store as a family. The kids like reading the books,playing with the toys and the other kids. Personally I enjoy the coffee shop, they makes delicious soy hot chocolates. But I digress.
I was watching my son play with the toy trains, while my daughter was reading books with her dad. I’m not 100% sure what happened but my husband handed me a stack of books and had a worried look on his face. He told me he had to take my daughter to the bathroom A.S.A.P!
Next thing I see is my poor daughter projectile vomiting, all over the floor in the children’s section of the book store.
My husband took her to the bathroom to get cleaned up, while I flagged down the sales clerks to get a mop. Now picture me standing next to a pile of barf, as I attempt to keep people from walking in it. While my son announces to everyone within an earshot that “The gross smell is because my sister threw-up on the floor”.
At that point I wanted to hightail it out of there, but I manned my post next to the vomit. Finally someone came with a broom and started cleaning up the mess. After numerous apologies and an offer from my husband to clean it, we figured it was time to go.
One small problem, my son didn’t want to leave. He was having fun and this abrupt exit sent him into a tailspin. Plus we needed to purchase the books for a party the next day.
So my poor husband took both kids back to car, so I could purchase the books. I have to say the scene was pretty pathetic. Image a six-foot tall man walking though a book store with a morose little girl (in vomit stained clothes) and a screaming little boy in the midst of a full blown temper-tantrum.
Unfortunately for him, the children’s book department is at the back of the store. That made for a rather lengthy walk to the exit.
So the next time you think you are having lousy day. Think of my trip to the book store. Remind yourself that things could be worse, much worse. You could be barfing in a book store, or you could be the person cleaning up the mess.
My four year old daughter in her loudest possible voice at Costco.
I’m pretty sure the woman heard her, but I was too embarrassed to turn around. I just kept looking straight ahead and pushed my shopping cart down the aisle as quickly as possible.