Now lest you think our drive 6 hours to upstate NY to visit my parents was without incident, never fear! It's us, remember??? There's always a story.
I took the the 4:05 train home from work on Thursday afternoon. We were on the road at 6pm.
We stopped at a Dunkin Donuts once we hit I-88 in Albany. We peed, we ate donuts (Hubby and the boyz), and we drank vanilla chai (me) and iced coffee (Hubby). Next stop: Gramma & Poppa's house!
Yeah, not so much.
Around 9:15 p.m., we shut off the DVD player, encouraging the boyz to settle down to sleep. A few seconds later, as Eldest and Baby started drifting off, Middle started complaining. "My head hurts....my belly hurts."
Hubby turned to me and said (WITH CONVICTION), "I betcha he's gonna puke."
No sooner had I responded to him with a surly, "Now WHY would you even say that???",
when Middle started to hork (totally stole that word from The New Girl, by the way).
Thankfully it spewed downward, and not outward. All over himself and his blanket.
Hubby turned on the interior lights as I clambered into the back seat and positioned myself between Middle and Baby's carseats. We were in the middle of nowhere, around Cooperstown. Hubby kept driving. Middle puked again. I had NOTHING to catch it with, so I just put his (already soiled) blanket up to his mouth. It was a LOT of vomit.
We pulled off in Oneonta. At practically 10pm. By this time, everyone is wide awake. Baby keeps repeating, "Don't like dat smell. Don't like dat smell in here." Eldest is in the way-back, plugging his nose.
NOTHING is open. We drive through a few deserted shopping plazas. When directly ahead of us, there's a beacon of light.
Hubby pulls up to the front of the store. I throw Middle, who is pale white with red-rimmed eyes, into the shopping cart. His puke stained pj's are HARDLY noticeable or smelly. (We totally fit RIGHT IN with the rest of the Walmart clientele.) I buy him new pj's (because, of course, the suitcase was at the BOTTOM of the trunk) and change him in the Walmart bathroom.
In the meantime, Hubby has reorganized the car. He puts Eldest in the Middle row with Baby so that I can sit in the third row with Middle. The vacuum that we're bringing to my parents is now in the front seat next to Hubby. I swear, we must look like the Griswolds.
So Middle and I return to the car. I had gotten a handful of plastic Walmart bags to contain the puke-laden blanket and pj's. Well, we hadn't even yet pulled out of the parking lot when Middle pukes again. The plastic bags aren't working. He keeps trying to wipe his face on the slippery plastic AS HE'S VOMITING. Hubby takes the puke-filled bag, and goes back into Walmart (not WITH the bag. He throws that out first.)
And then Hubby comes out with a bucket and rolls of paper towels. NOW we're ready to get back on the road.
5 minutes later, Middle is SNORING next to me.
We arrived after midnight.
And then? Middle REFUSED to go to bed once we got to my parents house. He NEEDED his blanket.
I had to rinse off the CHUNKS so my Mom could put it in the wash. And then Gramma delivered the blanket to (thankfully sleeping) Middle at 2am.
And that was our road trip to NY.
More to come on the weekend itself. No more sickness, I promise!