Tuesday, April 18, 2006
If you thought the poop wars were fun...
Current mood: scared
stay tuned for the obituary that will follow my next adventure. Should it be called Puke-o-rama?(too vague) or Death by Two Toddlers in Enclosed Area? (too long-winded). How cliche, my very own "be careful what you wish for moment. Go me. So yeah, finally leaving this island, you know, Spamland? The island I would kill to move off of. Yup, got my wish, in two weeks I'll be on a plane, waving goodbye to the biggest complaint I've had yet, Hawaii. Wait a minute, scratch that picture of smug happiness and let's try to paint a more accurate one (maybe in poop for old times' sake). Picture me fighting to put too much crap in an overhead compartment designed to make people shorter than 6' swear like sailors, screaming, "Rian Nicole get back here" and balancing a squirming one year old on my hip. Okay, assume that both toddlers are present and accounted for, and we're in our seats ready for take off. Not too bad right? Wrong. Did I mention my 2 year old just developed a hellacious case of motion sickness? Oh I didn't? Well she has, and it's only when she's about to fall asleep in a moving vehicle. What's that? Keep her up for the 12 hours of travel time? Baby Crack did you say? I won't even dignify that with a logical answer. No. Because I said so (I'm a mom, I can do that.) So, moral of the story is, wish me luck. (Or just send flowers to my widow).
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