I'm still here in the Denver airport and reflecting on when I was here last and Mary barfed all over herself and me in the security line. It was a cheetos nightmare from the car ride through the mountains. I was trying to decide how to cope when the tsa guy starts giving Bill a hard time. Yeah. Big security threat when blond two-year-old needs two rolls of paper towels to clean up the carpet. This only happens when you are already late to your flight. I took her to the bathroom and rinsed our shirts and shoes. Meanwhile Bill bought her a tourist t-shirt to wear on the plane.
She threw up twice more on the plane. I am a four times member of the mile high club. Not THAT mile high club--the moms of kids puking on planes club. It's all in the flick of the wrist with the sickness bag...
Today I'm all alone but not yet lonely...I actually get to go in the restroom stall all by myself.
Probably by tomorrow I'll be lonesome in there again.
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