Family reunions-- at least in the case of my family-- will always involve vomit.
And yelling.
But let's just talk about the vomiting, because it's actually less unpleasant than the yelling.
It doesn't really matter where we go. Idaho, Utah, California, North Carolina, Montana, Wyoming, in airplanes over these states--we've puked in all these places.
This time it started with my two year old niece at my house in California. And then continued with her mother as we drove from Barstow, California to Las Vegas, Nevada (at least we got 1/3 of the drive in before it started). From there it spread to my Girl 3 as I filled up my gas tank one mile from my in-law's house. Luckily, we had the foresight to empty the giant bag of Swedish fish into a smaller one, thus leaving the bigger bag available for the contents of anyone's stomach who may have wanted to see them again. Girl 3 turned out to be that person.
But wait, there's more.
I joined Girl 3, so she and I spent the night cuddled up to my mother-in-law's toilet. Which was pretty awesome, because if there's one thing you want from your driver it's a combination of exhaustion and queasiness.
And drive on, we must because Cedar City was our next destination. More specifically, the Utah Shakespearean Festival. For which we had non-refundable tickets-- purchased months before the barfing commenced-- to see Mid-Summer Night's Dream and Richard III. No little stomach bug was going to keep us from getting cultured.
Luckily my sister-in-law (the mother of patient zero) had nothing left to up-chuck and so was ready to travel on.
I simply willed myself to not throw up whilst driving.
If only my other niece had done the same. Instead she spent most of the three hour drive filling the gallon-sized Zip-loc bags we "borrowed" from my in-laws. Thank goodness for that color-coded zip system is all I've got to say about that.
Also, if you ever stay at the Comfort Inn & Suites -- which I highly recommend, by the way--you may want to request to NOT have room 214. That's all I'm going to say about that. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.
The plays were very well done and I was able to keep down my day's intake of Coke (it not only settles your stomach, but keeps you awake for driving), popsicles, saltines, and chicken soup. Which was good, because we were not in the Groundlings section where it isn't considered uncouth to barf during Shakespeare. We left feeling very cultured indeed.
From Cedar City to Salt Lake -- a mere four hours-- things improved somewhat with only the occassional dry heaving from my niece. We dropped off the babysitter we'd brought along, wishing her an early birthday and hoping we'd only given her the gift of Shakespeare for her 14th.
The next stop was my parents' house in Logan, where, within twenty-four hours, they too were enjoying the excitement of traveling while puking as the bug hit both of them while they drove to Idaho to watch my brother and husband (two different people, those--no Idaho jokes here, please, about how if I get divorced will my ex-husband still be my brother) compete in the Spudman triathlon. They did get to see hubby for ten seconds as he ran by before they decided to return home in order to be sick there and not in some dirty rest stop.
They almost made it.
Fortunately, the bug seems to have stopped with them. Though I haven't heard from my other brother and sister-in-law who left for Seattle right after our brief family gathering.
So maybe we get to add Washington to our list of States In Which We've Puked.
