Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Always a Trip

We are on vacation. We left home last Friday, Georgia bound with a van full....a van full of children, luggage and the next door neighbor who hitched a ride to visit her son. After driving and visiting for six hours, I was ready for a break. We deposited Ethel at her final destination around dinner time, about two hours outside of Atlanta and decided to make it a fiesta. We found a fun little Mexican restaurant and watched in amazement as Catherine devoured an entire taco, rice, refried beans and a gaggle of chips. Our amazement over that taco dinner would not be shortlived.

We hit the perimeter in Atlanta right in the middle of the worst weather this side of Katrina that I've ever seen. All hail broke loose if you know what I mean. The van was pelted with golf balls as a multiple tsunamis poured over the roof...we hit pool after pool of water, hydroplaning from one side of I-75 to the other. By the time we reached our exit and pulled safely into my brother's house, my knuckles were white from gripping the door handle and I had blisters on the bottoms of my feet from hitting the brakes on the passenger side. After being pried out of my seat, I stumbled into the house asking for some Zanax with some vodka to wash it down. I was a mess.

We let the kids run wild playing with their cousin and finally got everyone calmed down and in a bed. But Catherine started complaining that her tummy hurt. It was somewhere around 11 pm and she was clearly in pain. I dug through my portable medicine cabinet and saw that I had packed something for every ailment from a scrape on the knee to constipation, but had nothing for the tummy ache (of course). So Andy offered to run out and find something for her. Since this was Atlanta, I figured he'd run to the super Walmart just around the corner and come back with some Children's Pepto or something like that. When he returned (nearly an hour later), all he had was a pack of adult chewy Rolaids, some saltine crackers and ginger ale.

She was still writhing in pain and didn't want to put anything in her mouth. "Come on sweetheart, " he said, "take some of the medicine...the Dr. said you'd feel better."

"You saw a Dr.?" I asked.

He shook his head no.

"A pharmacist?"

Again, negative head shake. "The manager of the pack-a-sack said this is what he gives his kids when they don't feel good."

The manager of the pack-a-sack. Mmmkay.

Well we found out in sometime around 1:30 am...the reason she didn't want to put anything in her mouth. And we got to experience the El Mexicano especial all over again...although it wasn't nearly as enjoyable coming out as it was going in. UGH And remember, friends...we were in SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE!!!!! So I spent the next three hours scrubbing, cleaning, disinfecting, and washing sheets.

The first part of our vacation has been a trip. We are now in the mountains and I'm hoping I have nothing to blog about the rest of the week. I sent Andy, William and Catherine into Helen a while ago so I could enjoy a quiet cabin while the little one naps. If they return wearing lederhosen I'll be sure to take a picture. And, of course, blog about it because...well...that would just be funny.

I could use some funny.

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