Border Patrol, Puke, and Lots of Laughs!

I never seem to have a picture when I need it, but you will just have to imagine this.  It won't be hard - think back to the parking garage story and the choking in the restaurant story.

My sister and her beautiful family are visiting us in Arizona.  We have really been cramming everything we can into the past eleven days.  We have hiked Walnut Canyon near Flagstaff and then endured a monsoon rainstorm nearby.  We have hiked at the Grand Canyon, been to the Bearazonia drive thru safari in Williams, Arizona, toured Sedona by Pink Jeep, and spent a day at Slide Rock.  That was the first four days.

The last four we spent in San Diego.  We got our price of admission out of the San Diego Zoo, logging a full twelve hours in the park.  We also spent several hours on Coronado Island, watching the kids splash in the cold Pacific.

Today was the day to make the drive home.  My husband, brother-in-law, my nephew, and Graham decided to leave bright and early and make it back to Phoenix for a Diamondbacks baseball game.  My sister and I decided to sleep in with the rest of the kids, eat a leisurely breakfast at a magnificent crepe place downtown and then make our way back across the desert.

We left the hotel and started back to Phoenix.  Anyone who has ever made this drive in the summer knows that it is barren between San Diego and Phoenix and the temperature gauge just gets higher and higher as you travel east.

Here is the picture you need in your head.  We are packed to the hilt with all the luggage, strollers, cooler, and miscellaneous other things that eleven people, including two toddlers, bring on vacation.  We forgot to get the movie case from the older boys, so the babies were on their third round of Hop (yes, my hair was getting thin) and some people in the car were crying for a bathroom stop.  In the midst of this, my sister and I are chatting it up in the front seat.  So much so, that the border patrol station kind of snuck up on us.  When we spotted it, my sister grabbed her camera because she wanted to show all of her NC friends the way we guard the border here in Arizona.  I am not sure how the border patrol feels about photographs.  Also, we were talking so much that I failed to see the sign directing cars in one direction and "larger" things like RVs and 18-wheelers in another.  Suddenly, I am wondering why all the cars are lined up to my left and me and a big ol' bus are the only ones on the right - with all those cones in the middle so I couldn't correct my mistake.  For some reason, this struck my sister and me as funny and we were laughing so hard when we arrived at the guard that I almost couldn't catch my breath.  I rolled down the window to greet the stoic man in a uniform and I was still laughing.  "Sorry," I gaffed, "I think I got in the wrong lane."

"It is fine ma'am.  Can you roll down the back window please?"  All this with just a little crack of a smile.  I guess he doesn't find his job funny at all.

I roll down the back window and the poor man is greeted by two toddlers in the middle and three teenagers crammed in the back.  I think I have already mentioned the miscellaneous garbage stuff you have when you travel with eleven people.  He pokes his head down and smiles a little at Patrick who just stares at him with his huge eyes.

"Are you all Americans?"

"Yes."

"Have a good day, and follow that bus, it will take you back to the interstate."  My being in the wrong lane had resulted in us exiting the interstate and having to take an access road back on.

As we drive away and I start to roll the window up, I am not exaggerating when I say it was less than twenty seconds and we heard this horrible gulping noise from the backseat.  Suddenly, Patrick begins to throw up the entire contents of his stomach - the egg and cheese crepe, the orange juice, the mango smoothie, yeah - you get the picture.  I slam on brakes and pull over to the side of the road.  He is staring with his huge eyes and he says softly, "I ok Mama."  This kid melts my heart!

We of course, have to pull him out, dig around in the packed out trunk, find clothes to change him into (ended up being a dirty pajama shirt, but whatever), locate paper towels, wipes, beach towels to soak the puke up out of the car seat, and find a blanket that he could sit on because the car seat smelled like - well, exactly what you can imagine it smelled like.  Meanwhile, the three teenagers in the car are gagging, grossing out, and all that stuff, all the while feeling pretty sorry for their brother who still had that confused look that babies get when they throw up.

Suddenly, we were once again struck in the funny bone by the thought of Patrick puking on the border patrol agent.  It wouldn't have really been funny of course, at least not for the poor agent, but we just could not stop imagining the whole scenario.  Somehow, it always ended up with us calling our husbands to explain why we were being detained by border patrol as they unloaded all the garbage from the car to search it.

We finally get Patrick to the point that he didn't have to actually sit in anything too gross and we book it the last two hours home.  Now, he is clean, his seat is clean, and the car is empty (though clean would be a stretch).  The very best news of all is that it appears that my baby boy was car sick because so far he has no fever, has eaten a great supper, been swimming twice, and is playing like normal.  Whew, I was not looking forward to a round of the stomach virus.  Thank you Jesus!!