words that strike terror in my heart

"Daddy, I think I'm going to throw up"

Yes, folks ... and it gets worse ... because we are in gezzy (our mini van) on our way home from St. Louis. We had just eaten at McDonald's about an hour before and were about 30 minutes away from home. I happened to be the passenger at this point so I got the job of cup holder (to put it a bit more crass ... the throw up catcher). I did pretty good on the first round. It was all out of the mouth and I was able to catch about 92.3% into a cup.

I quickly noticed two things: 1, the cup was about full; 2, Abby wasn't done. In a great display of team work, Miriam handed me another cup which I promptly took with my other hand and tactically positioned it where I had such a successful catch the last time. Unfortunately, I learned a lesson that most military folks know ... don't fight this battle like the last one because it will probably be different. And this one was. My catch percentage was only about 59% (67% if you count what ended up on my hands and arm). The secret weapon that decimated me ... the nose rocket which completely shot over my cup.

I don't do so well with me smell and I had to sit there holding this stuff in both hands while we tried to find a place to pull over. I was pretty close to losing it myself. Lukie boy was just hanging out casually looking the scene over empathy emitting from him like that of a stone wall. Miriam ... Miriam was ... laughing. Eventually I was too, but not until I was cleaned up.

Abby was a trooper and Miriam did the van clean up while I washed myself off. This isn't the first time Abby threw up after eating McDonalds ... maybe the play area isn't worth it.