**Every word of this story is true. Believe it or not.**
I'll begin with the events leading up to our arrival in south Florida.
1 week prior to flight: Tim and I fantasize about long days spent at the beach and pool, drinking cocktails, and not worrying about our infant son who would be in great hands with his parents. Tim went as far as to say that maybe we could go out to see a movie. I thought, maybe even a movie AND dinner. It was going to be warm, sunny, relaxing...
4 days prior to flight: I take Parker to the library for story time. There are no less than 15 disgusting babies ages 0-4 years old snotting all over place while Parker happily mouths everything in sight.
3 days prior to flight: Parker has play group with a bunch of seemingly healthy babies.
1 day prior to flight: Parker vomits in the morning. His top tooth erupts.
Night prior to flight: Parker vomits all night, requiring full bedding changes and midnight bath. He seems ill...for reals.
5 hours prior to take off: Tim and I have a debate over whether we should fly or not. By debate, I mean that I say I think he is too sick, and Tim says the tickets were way too expensive, non-transferable, and non-refundable. Therefore, the only way we are not getting on the plane is if he is actively dying.
My sick son with raging teething cheeks. |
2 hours prior to take off: Massive diarrhea at the terminal, with blowout. Spare outfit employed.
Leg 1 of flight: Parker refuses to take any formula or food. He sleeps most of the time, but when he is awake he is fussing up a storm. Parker has his third bottom-row tooth erupt.
Leg 2 of flight: Parker takes a bottle, vomits it up, and has massive blow out #2. Tim gets covered in shit. His pants are covered, his jacket is covered, both sleeves are covered from the previous blowout. I get out of my seat to access the overhead bin to find diaper changing material, only to have the overhead bin door fall off in my hands. At this point we have a naked, screaming, poop covered baby in Tim's lap and me holding the broken overhead bin. There isn't a single person on the plane who isn't staring in our direction. A few people are pointing at me so the flight attendant can come help me out with the broken door. Flight attendant comes over, helps me replace it, and now I can tend to my shit covered husband and son.
This blowout is one of the worst we have ever experienced. The poop is nothing but shear virus. It's green, mucousy, liquid virus that smells so bad I'm actually gagging. I've never gagged from the smell of poop. Ever. And I've smelled a lot of shit. Needless to say, our spare outfit is ruined, and Parker is now donning only his diaper. Tim gets up to go to the bathroom to try to clean himself up, and while he is gone Parker is sobbing his face off. Clearly, he doesn't feel good, he is naked, and I don't even have a blanket for him since it's covered in poop also. I stand up to try to bounce him a little...I lock eyes with a woman sitting a couple seats away. She mouths, "It's okay," and for some reason I lose my shit and start to cry.
I let a few tears of frustration go and get myself together. Tim comes back and I hand off Parker to him so I can wash up and get rid of the diaper and all the clothes which are not salvageable. The baggy of crap is too big to fit in that tiny garbage door next to the sink on the plane, so I break into the compartment under the sink to put it in. Then I can't figure out how to close it. I'm waiting for the alarm to go off for tampering with the bathroom. Nothing happens, so I leave it alone.
We finally land and get off the plane to meet my in laws. They are totally amused and tickled that Parker is only in a diaper. It's just too soon for me to get a kick out this.
"Didn't you pack a spare outfit?"
"Do you have a blanket we could wrap him in?"
Really?
We all get back to the in laws house, which is this beautiful condo right near the ocean, and get Parker to bed. The kid was so exhausted we didn't even give him a bath. Which worked out okay since he needed one a few hours later anyway.
Stay tuned for how the following 5 days went. If you've seen the movie Contagion, you might remember that the virus in that movie affected 30% of the people who were exposed. Parker's virus affected greater than 80% of people exposed during this trip.
Ohhhh Laura. I love this and I'm giggling but I would have died; it's best I'm childless.
ReplyDeleteOkay, Momma. You have officially won the title of worst FML vacation story. Good God almighty! I think I might have opened the emergency exit door and jumped. I am very much looking forward to the next installments of this debacle of a vacay!
ReplyDeleteNew follower! And thanks for following me!
Keesha @ Mom's New Stage.
Haha. Thanks for the validation...sometimes I wonder if I'm overreacting!
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