Poor Greg had a rough day battling the stomach flu. He was well enough when it was time to leave for the airport, so we trudged on. Just as we were beginning to taxi from the gate, he gave me a panicked look and reached for me from Andrew's lap. Seconds after taking him into my arms, there was vomit. All over Greg. All over me. The flight attendants were helpful and brought us stuff to help clean up, but it was not the most nicely-fragrant flight home. The book "Farmer Jones" was unfortunately in the line of fire.
Now I can notch off "getting vomited upon" on my motherhood bingo card.
 |
| The book even goes to breakfast! |
 |
| "Memaw, I don't feel very good." |
 |
| Quality craftsmanship at the Philadelphia airport (hole to the outside) |
 |
| "Are we there yet?" |
No comments:
Post a Comment