Tyson, Logan, and I went to Arizona last week. And while we had a wonderful time visiting family and new places the flight home was bad enough to convince me to never fly again.
Long story short...
Logan threw up in the airport during our layover in Salt Lake. We were hoping it was a fluke because he was acting fine. It only got on the floor, and while that was kinda embarrassing... It cleaned up quickly and seemed to be a one time occurrence. The fear in the other passengers eyes did nothing to discourage our plans to get home that night.
Then, as we were boarding the plane, in the little tunnel thingy, Logan started to fuss while I was holding him. And disaster struck. Or rather, splattered.
Barf all over me. From my head to my toes. It was in my hair and covering my sweatshirt and on my pants and my shoes. Also, all over Logan. And did I mention it was in my hair? Curse this long hair!
I honestly did not even know what to do in that moment. I couldn't get on the plane like that! But we were the last ones to board and the flight had already been delayed so it wasn't like they would wait for us. I shuffled to the bathroom, shaking and holding my crying child and let Tyson deal with the flying.
We ended up missing the flight and spending the night in Salt Lake. Logan took care to mark our path with puddles at each new location.
I'll spare you the details of the rest of our evening but know that it was not fun. And can I just say that the only thing that kept me going was my mantra of, "think of the blog post, think of the blog!"
I would also like you to note that ALL of my stuff, and Logan's stuff was on the plane. We had nothing but our smelly clothes on our backs.
You think that's the end of the story? It's so not.
We managed to get on another flight the next day (with no extra charge, thank you delta!) and made it all the way to Portland without any tummy troubles.
But then Logan started crying as everyone was getting their bags off the plane. I stood up with him to soothe him and Bam!
Throw up down my back and on the floor of the plane.
Then as we were loading up the car Bam!
Throw up all over my front.
And when we got home Bam!
On the driveway.
Is this TMI? It was pretty much just water on this day so it kinda washed out what was already on my clothes.
And thus concludes the worst 18 or so hours of my life.
Would you like some photographic evidence? I'll show you my shoes. They got it the least of all. Pretend it's dirt.
It's almost to the point where it's a funny story to me, but not quite because Logan is still throwing up this morning. I think once the sickness has been purged, then I'll be able to laugh.
Or at least start looking for plane tickets for my sister's wedding.