I was packing for an out of town trip to a funeral when I heard the crash and felt the house shake just a little. I figured it was another wreck on that bad curve in front of the house until the kids came running out of my bedroom.
Kids running from a place they aren’t supposed to be is never a good thing.
There was wreckage. Clothes and blankets all over the bottom of my closet. The brackets that were supposed to hold the shelf were ripped from the drywall.
And a lesson for me… Never put confiscated items on the top shelf of a closet that is not sturdy enough to withstand the pulling of naughty children. Ahem.
Set me back a little bit in my packing, it did. Hard to pack clothes when you can’t walk into your own closet and your shoes are buried under a massive pile of stuff that should have been donated long ago.
Why do I still have all those old bridesmaid dresses from ten years ago?
Somehow, I managed to get it together between disciplining the children and surveying the wreckage. We were only a little late to the visitation at the funeral home.
We made it through the evening and back to the hotel with some snacks. We even enjoyed watching the big basketball game with Eric’s cousin’s family. It was one o'clock when the last kiddo finally fell asleep, but I call that success.
It couldn’t last.
It didn’t. At 4:00 in the morning, my baby boy woke up with a raging fever. Out of town fevers in a hotel are not fun.
Finally, morning came and the fever went down a bit. While Eric got ready for the funeral, the kids and I ventured out to the hotel lobby for some juice.
There is a well known rule that says, “Kids must always puke in the least convenient situation available.” So, Sam puked in the breakfast room right off the lobby.
I do love being a public spectacle.
Poor little guy couldn’t help it, I know.
Thankfully, the staff of the hotel were quick with a mop to clean up the mess on the floor.
Most of the mess was on his pants. So with the grace and etiquette that comes so naturally to me, I stripped him down to his diaper, bundled the mess, and carried him back to the hotel room with everyone watching.
We missed the funeral, but we did make it home without having to pull over to the side of the road. It’s so much nicer having a sick kid in your own home.
Not so nice when momma joins in the sickness though.
I’d ask what else could go wrong, but I’d rather not know.
I might as well share the comedy with you. I know those in the trenches of motherhood can relate.
As my grandma would have probably said, “this, too, shall pass.”