A little more on vomit

Well, I spoke too soon Thursday about Ellie doing better. She woke up from her nap and I thought she was fine. I put her in her car seat and I thought she was fine. About 4 minutes from home it became quite apparent that she was not fine. No chunks this time because she hadn't eaten anything but the poor girl was literally soaked in throw up from the chest down. When she was finally done, she looked at me and, in the most pitiful little voice you could ever imagine, she said, "Daddy fix it". I, of course, felt like the worst dad ever because I had to get her home before I could fix anything so she sat strapped in her pukey car seat for another 4 minutes. Finally, I got her home, stripped, bathed and settled down and she's been much better ever since. But, of course, there was still the car seat . . .

For anyone who doesn't know, me being a pukey car seat cleaner-upper is a lot like Carla owning a pet mouse, or Mom becoming a snake handler, or Andy swimming in spiders, or Grandma Walker becoming a Sherpa, or Steph being a storm chaser, or Bill performing open-heart surgery, or Bryan judging a soggy cereal eating contest. But, to my eventual delight, I took that car seat apart, cleaned it, washed the cloth covering, and reassembled it. I liked the reassembly the best. And of course I came in and Ellie was happy and playing.

Friday, she did so good that we decided go camping with Bob and Kay and Mark and Ann down by Salt Fork. Ellie did great, Walker did not. I won't go into that too much, though, because, as they say on Friends, he went a little south of throwing up. I'll just say that there was more clean up involved. At 4 in the morning. Other than that, great weekend.