One of those Days

Sometimes you just have one of those days.  

Friday night D'Artagnan and Athos left for an overnight cross-country Scout camp. I took the rest of the clan to a Storytelling Concert. The plan for the next day was I would take Porthos and Aramis to their grandparents in the morning while I took Sugar Princess to an Irish Dance Competition.  Then we would all meet up at the baptism of my nephew by 10:00 a.m.  It was a packed 24-hours already, but fate decided to add something else to the mix...throw up.

By 10:00 pm Friday night, Aramis had thrown-up a lot.  I didn't think a five-year olds stomach could contain what looked like a Thai wedding feast, but that is what entered the greater County's septic system.

I had a few hours reprieve while he slept and I searched the entire house from top to bottom for Irish Poodle socks which I know I had washed, rolled, and prepared for the Dance competition the week before.  They must have left for Ireland on a boat because by 1:00 am, I still had not found them.

At 5:30 am, Aramis confronted the pipes again. 

At 6:00 am, I was wondering how I would get through the next four hours. By 7:00am, I had put a curly coif wig and a tiara on Sugar Princess and loaded the rest of the kids in the minivan with a lidded tupperware to contain any loose things that might come up.

The grandparents graciously took the sick kid and we drove to the competition.  As I walked in, there was an entire table of Irish Poodle Socks for sale.  AHEM. Princess took 2nd and 3rd in a couple of the dances, so she was happy.

Sugar Princess as #426.

Sugar Princess and friends.

I whipped Princess off the stage after the SlipJig and drove half way across the city.  D'Artagnan called and said he had fallen and hit the back of his head and was coming home early. Thoughts of Natasha Richardson and Billy Mays ran through my head. Although late, we arrived in time to see my nephew get baptized.  Afterward, during the confirmation meeting, Aramis grabbed his tupperware.  He threw up in the second row.  As I was rushing him out holding the bowl under his chin, he lost his shoe like Cinderella.  A woman on the last row gave me the dirtiest of looks that said, "You knew he was sick because you brought a bowl and yet you bring him here to infect us all."  I gave her a look back that said, "Yep."

Outside the door stood a little table.  I set the bowl there and let him throw up and throw up while I frantically looked around for a bathroom.  It was then I looked down and saw the sign taped to the table.

It was just one of those days.