Today was a beautiful day. Sunny, temperature in the mid-to-high 60s. Everyone was outside.
The girls woke early from their nap, around 2 p.m. I decided we were going to go check out a yarn store I had just discovered. It was about a 45-minute walk from the compound, so I decided we'd save some time by driving, then hit the playground before dinner.
You may recall my last attempt at driving alone with the girls. It didn't end well. I had a sense of foreboding as we walked to the parking spot. But surely Natasha wouldn't throw up all over herself again. Right?
We had been in the car about 10 minutes when she spewed banana down the front of her sweater. Obviously, the trip to the yarn store wasn't going to happen, but I was stuck pretty darn near the center of a 12-lane thoroughfare with no hope of pulling over any time soon and helping my daughter out of her puke.
An hour later, we were finally home. Natasha was a trooper in the car, and although she threw up three more times, she barely complained. After she was bathed and sipping contentedly on a little bit of Sprite to settle her stomach, she was good as new.
What I want to know is, why does she only throw up when I'm alone in the car with her? Jeremy will probably say it's something to do with my driving. Whatever it is, I don't see us taking a drive without him again anytime soon.
(And it serves me right - we should have just walked to the stupid yarn store).