Tomorrow we head home on a sold-out Southwest flight. Not only did I miss the "A" boarding window, I've got a teething 5-month-old lap baby with a major head cold (fever, weepy eyes, wet cough and nonstop nasal drip) and a 3-year-old who threw up everywhere just after our food arrived at a Lebanese restaurant tonight. We hustled her home wearing nothing but her little sister's onesie unsnapped under my coat.
And yes, since he's all "I told you so" anyway, I'll issue my public mea culpa here. Josh warned me we were in for trouble if we took the girls out to dinner tonight. Z had been pissy and whiny all afternoon and she hadn't had much of an appetite all day, but I thought worst-case scenario would be a whole lot of pouting--not a bucket full of puking. So I packed crayons and stickers instead of a spare outfit.
I think my mom and her boyfriend will be pretty happy to see us and go. We've stunk their car up with the smell of french fries, used up all their Kleenex and put their new washer-dryer through its paces with 5 loads of laundry in as many days.
