Tuesday, July 31, 2007 The Queen Who Ate the Fair Saturday, after getting off the boat, the inlaws wanted to go back to their house and rest for a while. Then they wanted to take the kids out to the county fair! Yeehaw!!! I had already made the decision that I wouldn't be attending because (1) the only fair I like is our fair and (2) just the idea of spending time in the close proximity of tobacco chewers and spitters, and the crowd that was there just to see the tractor pulls didn't excite me in the least. Ace took an oath that he would not allow the kids to eat meat at this fair. I said "whatever you do ... DO NOT LET THE KIDS EAT MEAT." I had these visions. Visions of being stuck at my inlaws house for ONE more day while the four of them ralphed into trashcans because of some nasty food poisoning. I am NO dummy. Apparently in Ace's mind, the oath meant NOTHING. Zilch. Nada. Yeah yeah yeah... if I had wanted to be the control freak that we all know I am, I would have gone along. But I didn't want to go, so there. They are gone for a good four hours, coming home smelling of the outdoors and cotton candy. They were telling me all about the rides that I would NEVER have placed my worst enemy's kids on, and then they went off to bed. They were still pretty riled up. About an hour goes by, and I can't stay awake any longer. We head off downstairs, and the Queen is still awake. She can't get comfortable. Her stomach was hurting her. I turned and looked at Ace and asked him "WHAT did she eat?" Knowing the Queen's penchant for junk food, I could only imagine. In the short amount of time they were there, the Queen consumed: 1. A bag of cotton candy 2. A caramel apple with nuts 3. A Sprite 4. A lemon shakeup 5. Part of a funnel cake 6. A CORN DOG Now, the last time I had checked, the dog part of the corn dog means meat. Does it mean something else in other parts of the world that Ace has never been to? Thankyouverymuch for listening to me, dear. She settled into my bed for the night (because, deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep down inside, I was hoping the Queen would let loose of her stomach contents on him during the night; it didn't happen that way). I went to sleep with the Monkey. Who promptly woke up. And started talking to me. At midnight. Mommy... you sleeping with me (this time, she sounded nothing like DeNiro)? Why you sleeping with me? Shhhhh... go to sleep. 10 minutes later: Mommy.... you still here? Why you here? GO TO SLEEP! Finally realizing and remembering that this child does not do well with people other than her 10,000 dolls and Barbies in her bed, I decided to leave for that lovely cot. The one that creaked like I was going to break it in half. I try to get some sleep, but that cot is just so .... uncomfortable. It is fine and dandy for an 8 year old, but not a 37 year old. I get a little bit of sleep, but then my stooopid bladder wakes me up. I decide that I am going to go sleep on the concrete floor that has carpet on it, otherwise known as the Monkey's floor. THAT is flipping uncomfortable. I manage to sneak back into the Monkey's bed with her, and sleep in a very precarious position for about 30 minutes. Then she wakes up from a bad dream, and proceeds to carry on ANOTHER conversation with me. I leave for the cot again (only after having made it make a horrid sound, and the Monkey had to come out and survey whether the cot was still in one piece, as well as her mother). The Queen gets up for the day, eats a good breakfast that her Grammy has made for her, and the proceeds to complain MORE about her stomach. At one point, she thought she was going to throw up. So we bed her down in the back of the van, give her some trashbags, and hope for the best. About 3 1/2 hours into the trip, she ralphs in a plastic bag. But then she is remarkably better. I guess she just needed to get it all out. I would like to thank my husband for giving all of this to me as payback for having 4 hours of unadulterated silence. I should have gone to that da** fair. Labels: fairs, summer vacation, the Queen |
I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.
Conquering My Fear, One Treacherous Step at a Time
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5 Comments:
HA HA I'm so tired just reading this one girlie!
What a vacation you had..I'm SOOO jealous! (NOT!)
See you tonight!
Egads!
So, is it meat in general or just Fair meat that doesn't agree with your kids? Mine would have hurled too, but not from the meat...from not only the mix but the sheer volume of the other stuff.
So far your recount of the trip has me thinking you should skip the next trip entirely. Come down with some horrid bug and send Ace and the kids on their merry little way and have the house to yourself for 4 days. Consequences be damned. LOL!
Sue, I do think that it was a combination of all that food. The other kids didn't have a problem with THEIR corn dog and hot dog. The Queen is STILL feeling it today. She has been having some major tummy trouble.
Nobody listens to ME!
No one listens to me either...that's when they find themselves on their own. My husband even knows the look by now..."You ignored me so I am now ignoring what YOU have to deal with/clean up/re-build/whatever." I agree with the "mind"...next trip I would have a terrible bout with cluster migraines...and be unable to go.
have you seen this one woman??
http://lawyerlaughter.blogspot.com/
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