withrespect
:wr:
So...
I haven’t posted an experience in a while so I figured I would share. Be patient with me - I don’t put my experiences into words too much anymore.
I had my darling little angelic cherub demon-spawn-of-Satan child, Bubba, this weekend. (time is split between his father and I - Pretty sure the child is bi-polar.
He loves to hate everything.)
The boyfriend, his two teenage daughters, Bubba, my stepson from my marriage, and I all decided to go to dinner at the Olive Garden (Bubba's pick - we made sure not to take any napkins, I SWEAR ). We all packed ourselves in the boyfriend's Chevy Suburban.
Note: (Nice big vehicle - I tried to drive it once. It is longer than I estimated... I went over curbs... a lot of curbs.
)
Bubba orders spaghetti and Italian sausage... eats 3/4 of an adult portion (I promised him I would get him a big one so we could take leftovers home to have for lunch the next day)... That is a LOT of food for an adult so his little baby belly was stuffed.
BUT... Mommy PROMISED him ice cream from Bruster's if he was good at the restaurant. The child was good. I had to keep my promise.
Bad decision.
Get to Bruster's... he got mint chocolate chip ice cream in a sugar cone. That's a shiit ton of ice cream there. He ate most of it.
So from Hollywood, we head back to Tall Timbers... decided to take 235 so I could stop by my apartment and check the mail that I have been neglecting... Bubba was coloring his book when suddenly I hear, "Mommy.... I think I am going to frow-up."
Me--->
That's ok, sweetie... I take my empty milkshake cup and hand it to him... "Throw up in this!!!!"
He did... the cup was nowhere NEAR big enough for the large serving of spaghetti and huge ice cream cone. Half of it was in his lap and splashed into his brothers face sitting next to him.
The smell was God awful. Boyfriend's daughter is hanging her head out the window to rid her nostrils of the putrid, half-digested, food.
My stepson is crying, looked at me in despair and said, "Robin...I'm going to frow-up too."
We are almost to my apartment so I don’t want to stop.
Bad decision.
I don’t have another cup!!!!
Being the awesome member of society I am, I toss the contents of the cup out the window.
Bad decision.
Window in the back was still open and the puke came RIGHT back inside the car.
The girls are screaming and saying "Why is this happening?!?!?"... Stepson is now crying so hard that he is puking in his lap because I didn’t get the cup to him fast enough.
The girls are now crying because not only are they misted in spaghetti-mint puke... but now they are dealing with black olive pizza and strawberry puke.
This had all happened in a matter of 7 minutes.
The boyfriend is keeping his cool and quickly pulls into Sheetz. I hate Sheetz and I am mid-panic attack already but I had no choice! We had to stop to survive.
His car is covered in vomit on both the outside and inside. We each grab one of the boys and start stripping them down to their underwear. He throws ALL the clothes in the trash without saying a word.
Bad decision.
So now I have my half-naked son and stepson sitting in the backseat.
Bubba chimes in "Mommy? I have to go potty."
"Are you freaking KIDDING ME!??!?!?" I said.
"No... I have to go very bad."
I grab my son's smelly hand that had only been wiped off with his shirt and take him into Sheetz in his bright yellow Minion underwear and tennis shoes.
I didn’t make eye contact with anyone because I was mortified.
I get him back into the car. Every child and teenager in the car is crying. I looked at my boyfriend's forlorn face and said I don’t want to go to my apartment. I just want to get back to your house so everyone can bathe.
The car was silent the entire ride home.
As we pull up in the drive way, Bubba says, "Mommy, I'm hungry - can I have a snack?"
I started crying as I was drawing the bath.
We were up until 12:30 shampooing the inside of the SUV.
I haven’t posted an experience in a while so I figured I would share. Be patient with me - I don’t put my experiences into words too much anymore.
I had my darling little angelic cherub demon-spawn-of-Satan child, Bubba, this weekend. (time is split between his father and I - Pretty sure the child is bi-polar.
He loves to hate everything.)The boyfriend, his two teenage daughters, Bubba, my stepson from my marriage, and I all decided to go to dinner at the Olive Garden (Bubba's pick - we made sure not to take any napkins, I SWEAR ). We all packed ourselves in the boyfriend's Chevy Suburban.
Note: (Nice big vehicle - I tried to drive it once. It is longer than I estimated... I went over curbs... a lot of curbs.
)Bubba orders spaghetti and Italian sausage... eats 3/4 of an adult portion (I promised him I would get him a big one so we could take leftovers home to have for lunch the next day)... That is a LOT of food for an adult so his little baby belly was stuffed.
BUT... Mommy PROMISED him ice cream from Bruster's if he was good at the restaurant. The child was good. I had to keep my promise.
Bad decision.
Get to Bruster's... he got mint chocolate chip ice cream in a sugar cone. That's a shiit ton of ice cream there. He ate most of it.
So from Hollywood, we head back to Tall Timbers... decided to take 235 so I could stop by my apartment and check the mail that I have been neglecting... Bubba was coloring his book when suddenly I hear, "Mommy.... I think I am going to frow-up."
Me--->
That's ok, sweetie... I take my empty milkshake cup and hand it to him... "Throw up in this!!!!" He did... the cup was nowhere NEAR big enough for the large serving of spaghetti and huge ice cream cone. Half of it was in his lap and splashed into his brothers face sitting next to him.
The smell was God awful. Boyfriend's daughter is hanging her head out the window to rid her nostrils of the putrid, half-digested, food.
My stepson is crying, looked at me in despair and said, "Robin...I'm going to frow-up too."
We are almost to my apartment so I don’t want to stop.
Bad decision.
I don’t have another cup!!!!
Being the awesome member of society I am, I toss the contents of the cup out the window.
Bad decision.
Window in the back was still open and the puke came RIGHT back inside the car.
The girls are screaming and saying "Why is this happening?!?!?"... Stepson is now crying so hard that he is puking in his lap because I didn’t get the cup to him fast enough.
The girls are now crying because not only are they misted in spaghetti-mint puke... but now they are dealing with black olive pizza and strawberry puke.
This had all happened in a matter of 7 minutes.
The boyfriend is keeping his cool and quickly pulls into Sheetz. I hate Sheetz and I am mid-panic attack already but I had no choice! We had to stop to survive.
His car is covered in vomit on both the outside and inside. We each grab one of the boys and start stripping them down to their underwear. He throws ALL the clothes in the trash without saying a word.
Bad decision.
So now I have my half-naked son and stepson sitting in the backseat.
Bubba chimes in "Mommy? I have to go potty."
"Are you freaking KIDDING ME!??!?!?" I said.
"No... I have to go very bad."
I grab my son's smelly hand that had only been wiped off with his shirt and take him into Sheetz in his bright yellow Minion underwear and tennis shoes.
I didn’t make eye contact with anyone because I was mortified.
I get him back into the car. Every child and teenager in the car is crying. I looked at my boyfriend's forlorn face and said I don’t want to go to my apartment. I just want to get back to your house so everyone can bathe.
The car was silent the entire ride home.
As we pull up in the drive way, Bubba says, "Mommy, I'm hungry - can I have a snack?"
I started crying as I was drawing the bath.
We were up until 12:30 shampooing the inside of the SUV.
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