Barfy Holidays to All

So my mom lives in Salem and a few days ago, we loaded up the family truckster with the dog, two kids, pillows, clothes, a few presents, etc. and made the traffic-laden trip south down I-5 (as an aside, why do people suck at driving?  And why are they always in front of me, driving exactly the speed limit in the fast lane?  And why don't they respond to my wailing on my horn and flashing my lights at them?  You'd think they'd take the hint...jerks.).

Things at Nana's were going swimmingly.  Hanging with the family, the kids barely able to keep their hands off the presents under the small fake Christmas tree, even finding a tall boy Bud Light in the back of the fridge.  The family decided to go to a nice little Italian eatery (whose name, based on what is to come, I will not mention here, for fear of ruining their business.  Let's just say it rhymes with Bolive Farden.).  Both of my kids had the delightful Italian delicacy macaroni noodles with a light cheese-based sauce (new household rule:  my kids can NEVER order the same thing for dinner again).

The twins rolled out of bed at 6:00 am the next morning (which was awesome, by the way, because I was not at all tired) excited to open presents.  And then...well, then it was a Barfocalypse.  Apparently the cheese-based sauce from the night before may not have been the freshest.

Full disclosure:  I'm not fond of vomit...coming from me, from others, laying about, plastic versions, vomit coming from humans, from animals, heck, once I found out that flies vomit on food to digest it, I developed a nearly pathological fear of flies landing on me (microscopic vomit!  ack!).

So thumbs down on vomit.  But boy howdy, did my kids yak...a LOT.  Often.  Sometimes at the same time.  And I'm not all the great with multi-tasking, so having one kid barfing in a toilet and another kid barfing in a bucket really stretched my abilities.  And THEN, I started getting calls from work (on my vacation day!  The nerve of other people doing work while I'm on vacation).  So barfing kids, a puppy opening everyone's presents with his teeth, my phone ringing, and a partridge in a pear tree....

Ugh.

We limped home, my boy throwing up in a bucket in the backseat (and then telling us that he was in the lead because he had thrown up more times than his sister) and spent the rest of the evening trying to keep things from flying out of my kids' mouths.

Which proves two things:  kids are gross.  And try not to get too hung up in your plans, since a little bit of barf can derail the whole thing (and a lot of barf can, well, be disgusting).

Happy Holidays everyone.  Please keep the traditional Holiday Barf Buckets close by.