By Heather O.
As mentioned previously, I have done some serious vomiting in my life. I thought that puking on an airplane and missing the lavatory would be a serious all time low. I was wrong. Having a child miss the airsick bag and puke on you on the airplane is much, much worse.
Yes, Jacob and I ended our 3 week stint sans Daddy with a bang, I guess you could say. The night before we left, he puked every half hour for about 4 hours, beginning at 3am. My mother insisted that I try to get a later flight, but c’mon, everybody knows that in this post 9/11 atmosphere, the flights are always overbooked, and trying to get 2 seats on a later flight is about as likely as flying to your destination using your own two wings. And I was so absolutely done that I needed to see DH, pukefest or no pukefest. So I boarded the flight with lots of plastic sacks and papertowels, and filled my seat pocket in front of me with lots of airsick baggies. Yes, I had to use them all.
We persevered, cleaned up a lot, Jacob slept a lot (which I guess is a good thing. It almost makes up for me having to clean up a lot of puke), and we made it home.
I’m never getting on a plane again. Ever.
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