The Part, revisited
Jun. 28th, 2004 04:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
la_rainetteSam, you and Froglet seem to share some sort of unhealthy internet connection. First, the utterly unrelated but strangely synchronized eye troubles. Now, the barfitis. Which you seem to have given a dose of to my poor froglet.
We went to the Georgian bay over the week-end, and we stayed overnight at a hotel. On Sunday morning, shortly before leaving (we had a one and a half hour drive up to Parry Sound, to take the Amazing 30,000 Island Boat Tour), she started complaining of a bellyache.
And then, all of a sudden, the Puking began. Froglet puked her guts out, and I could see Tadpole getting all worked up and ready to puke too - whether in sympathy, or to show her sister how it's done properly, since this is one of the few areas in which her expertise is much sounder than her sister's, I never found out, for a stern comment as to how little girls who puke do not get "I Spleam" treats startled her out of it.
With all the barfing, we left late, and stopped every 20 minutes on the way, and the gas indicator went on and we almost ran out of gas (this is deepest Ontario on a Sunday, gas stations are bloody closed), and we were really late already when we finally found an open gas station. Husband tanked up 63 liters, which amazed me, for I had always thought we had a 55 liter tank. I think we were using up our last drops when we found the place.
And Froglet screamed "I need to go to the washroom"
Me: OK, sweetpea, let's go.
Husband: But?
ME: SHE NEEDS TO GO. If the boat doesn't wait for us, so be it.
Froglet, entering the Ladies: Where should I go, Mom?
Me: Wherever, there's no one there.
Froglet: Eenie, meenie, meinie, moe...
Me: THIS ONE! NOW! HURRY UP!
She seems to be all better now, thankfully. Of course she didn't take the boat (Husband and Papy took Tadpole along, I kept my sick Froglet on the shore), and slept all the way home.
And was thus ready to party all night long when we arrived in Toronto. Of course.
The hotel room had a jacuzzi. Oooo, great, I thought. I never have the time to do this, so let's go for it! I grabbed myself a good book, and a cup of coffee, and settled in the bathub with spa bath gel, and turned on the jacuzzi. Anyone who's ever owned a jacuzzi must already be wincing at the combination.
For five minutes later, I had cramps in my arm. WTF?
Well, that must have been because I was holding my book far too high above my head. Because of the foam which was now at nose level. And my nice, bland, weak coffe had been transformed in a foamy, soapy capuccino from hell. And I looked like a snow beast.
Have you ever seen "The Party"? The movie from 1971, with Pater Sellers as Hrundi V. Bakshi, a clumsy Indian actor invited to a VIP party by mistake? Well, if you ever watch it, remember me when you see the foam scene. That's me, trying to find her way through a sea of foam.
We went to the Georgian bay over the week-end, and we stayed overnight at a hotel. On Sunday morning, shortly before leaving (we had a one and a half hour drive up to Parry Sound, to take the Amazing 30,000 Island Boat Tour), she started complaining of a bellyache.
And then, all of a sudden, the Puking began. Froglet puked her guts out, and I could see Tadpole getting all worked up and ready to puke too - whether in sympathy, or to show her sister how it's done properly, since this is one of the few areas in which her expertise is much sounder than her sister's, I never found out, for a stern comment as to how little girls who puke do not get "I Spleam" treats startled her out of it.
With all the barfing, we left late, and stopped every 20 minutes on the way, and the gas indicator went on and we almost ran out of gas (this is deepest Ontario on a Sunday, gas stations are bloody closed), and we were really late already when we finally found an open gas station. Husband tanked up 63 liters, which amazed me, for I had always thought we had a 55 liter tank. I think we were using up our last drops when we found the place.
And Froglet screamed "I need to go to the washroom"
Me: OK, sweetpea, let's go.
Husband: But?
ME: SHE NEEDS TO GO. If the boat doesn't wait for us, so be it.
Froglet, entering the Ladies: Where should I go, Mom?
Me: Wherever, there's no one there.
Froglet: Eenie, meenie, meinie, moe...
Me: THIS ONE! NOW! HURRY UP!
She seems to be all better now, thankfully. Of course she didn't take the boat (Husband and Papy took Tadpole along, I kept my sick Froglet on the shore), and slept all the way home.
And was thus ready to party all night long when we arrived in Toronto. Of course.
The hotel room had a jacuzzi. Oooo, great, I thought. I never have the time to do this, so let's go for it! I grabbed myself a good book, and a cup of coffee, and settled in the bathub with spa bath gel, and turned on the jacuzzi. Anyone who's ever owned a jacuzzi must already be wincing at the combination.
For five minutes later, I had cramps in my arm. WTF?
Well, that must have been because I was holding my book far too high above my head. Because of the foam which was now at nose level. And my nice, bland, weak coffe had been transformed in a foamy, soapy capuccino from hell. And I looked like a snow beast.
Have you ever seen "The Party"? The movie from 1971, with Pater Sellers as Hrundi V. Bakshi, a clumsy Indian actor invited to a VIP party by mistake? Well, if you ever watch it, remember me when you see the foam scene. That's me, trying to find her way through a sea of foam.
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no subject
Date: 2004-06-28 08:48 pm (UTC)(But in my subconscious, I'll still be laughing at the picture of you, baffled, covered in suds to the eyeballs!)
no subject
Date: 2004-06-28 08:50 pm (UTC)