Track Tales

Yesterday was the All-District Elementary School Track Meet, at which my daughter represented her school in the girls' 50m dash. Out of 16 runners, she placed 4th and we were predictably very proud and happy for her. To celebrate, we let her choose a restaurant. With me so far?

At this point, I need to back-track in order for you to fully appreciate the scenario. For our track star to be there on time, I had to awaken the 2-year-old from a nap.*

Once there, I had to fight with the other 7,000 parents for a parking place in an area designed for perhaps 25 vehicles. Naturally, all but 2 of them were driving enormous SUVs which requires them to park askance, thus taking up at least 2 spaces per Suburban. After parking a mere 4 miles away, I embraced some quality time with my darling offspring while walking to the meet.**

Upon arrival, we were informed that her event would be in only 2 hours and approximately 40 minutes. No need for asterisk here, the horror is self-explanatory.

Now, back to the restaurant...because my beloved spouse had stolen time to attend the track meet, he had to return to work when it was over. *** We were seated, drinks were brought (although not one contained any alcohol -- more's the pity), and food was ordered. So far so good. Food was brought to the table exactly as ordered. Everything was perfect...and then the baby coughed.

He coughed, and coughed, and coughed. He coughed, and gagged, and threw up. It was bench seating. He went through the sequence once again. It was still bench seating, only by now the bench was obscured by the contents of his stomach. It gets better: I had no extra clothes for him, for me, or for the restaurant. Standing up would make it worse; the big kids are both sympathy pukers; and then Chucky**** began screeching from the discomfort of being covered in..., well, vomit. I'd screech too -- in fact, I seriously considered it. All in all it didn't seem likely to advance my situation any, so I gave up the idea.

After using EVERY napkin in the place and "dressing" the child in his brother's jacket (which had been discovered wadded up under the seat in the car, thank GOD), I paid the bill -- along with an exorbitant tip -- and, wrapping myself in the shreds of my dignity, skulked home.

Is there no end to the glamour in my life?





*Do not try this at home. Abbreviated naps generally result in crankiness, irritability, excessive clinging and can be accompanied by whining, fit-throwing, and tantrums. In extreme cases, premature wakefulness can result in a dramatic increase in parental blood pressure.

**Note to self: When the only options are this or torture in a medieval prison, definitely go for the easy out next time.

***Read: (evil laugh) Ha-ha! I get points for "being there" but now, you're on your own!! I wish you luck.

****Not his real name...