It’s like this: We thought about taking a trip during which no member of our immediate family spent a day praying to the porcelain god, but we were afraid if we did that, no one would believe it was actually us.
The good news is that it’s already happened – both kids went down over Sunday night and most of Monday – and we’re hoping we’ve gotten it out of the way and it’ll be clear sailing from now on.
And if you have to get sick, it’s really best to do it wherever Grandma is, so that the availability of immediate cold forehead cloths and abundant, unquestioning sympathy is not so sadly lacking as it might be if you were stuck with just your parents. For example.
The adults in the party have so far escaped, and we’re not sure where the kids picked it up. Possibly it was on the plane from the guy who passed out in the aisle right next to us (!!!) and then brought up his breakfast. I’d never been on a flight before when a doctor was paged, and I’m happy that things weren’t really serious.
We actually knew a doctor that was on the flight with us, and as he stood beside us talking to the nurse who was getting the sick man’s vitals, someone in the row behind asked what kind of doctor he is, and he very neatly avoided the question with a joke. I guess probably no one really wants to hear they’re being attended by a hospice doctor for lightheadedness and vomiting.
Everyone recovered enough that we made it to the aquarium yesterday, which the boys enjoyed hugely. My favorite part was the outbuilding, though, where they have two manatees and a sea turtle that hang out together and eat eighty heads of lettuce a day. That is a lot of salad, my friends. They don’t even get croutons.
And this lovely lives with her sister, where they spend time shoving each other off the warmest spot in the tank, in an oddly familiar interspecies echo of what was happening above water as two small hooligans jockeyed for the best viewing position.
Back at the park, we’ve all been in the pool at least once, to great outcry by everyone who’s been living here longer than a few weeks and thinks 60 degrees is cold. I won’t lie, it’s chilly when you get out, but the pool is as warm as bathwater. What’s not to love?
Levi and Papa have wandered off to an outdoor museum about Native Americans, and Elias and I are sitting back at the house, soaking the quiet and solitude into our slightly harried, routine-loving souls.
It’s good.
Hahahahaha! I love it! You are an amazing writer, too! I spent some time bowing to the porcelain god this week too! Hope you and Paul don’t have to. It only gets rougher as we get older! Enjoy the rest of your southern stay!