Lost Reprise Part III

After checking out the next morning, we joined Jen, Charity, Suso, and their families at the Children’s Museum. The kids had a wonderful time, and I’m sure I would have, also, had there not been 300 children running around like banshees. I love children, but between the noise, the heat, not being able to speak to the adults because of laryngitis, and losing Hannah a couple times…my head was about to explode.

The kids were having Magic Meltdown Time after that, and we decided it was time to go. The trip home started out innocently enough. We were almost a third of the way there. I didn’t know that getting in one little wrong lane would cause us an added three hours on our trip. We accidentally went to Peoria, Illinois. Not a problem, we would just stop and eat supper and find our way back to the right road. Did I mention we didn’t have a map?

All of the sudden from the back seat: “Mom, look, I have funny spots on me!” I don’t think Conrad and I could have whipped our heads around any faster. There they were, big blotches up and down Hannah’s leg. We would need to get her Benadryl while we were lost in Peoria, and then we were sure she would probably be okay. So we found a CVS Pharmacy. We let Hannah walk but made Emme stay in the cart.

***Warning: The following is not for the faint of heart, if you have never been a parent***

“DAD! Emme has poop on her shirt and the cart and the floor!” I guess Emme’s not going for four days in a row should have warned us. But it didn’t. I’m sure we were a hilarious sight trying frantically to wipe up the mess off the cart and the floor. I rushed her to the bathroom and took about 30 minutes to clean her up. It was disgusting. I couldn’t handle it—I broke down in fits of hysterical laughter there on the CVS Pharmacy bathroom floor. It could only happen to us!

The good news is that after the Benadryl, Hannah was fine. And Emme was happy as could be running around in just a diaper.

The bad news is that we drove around Peoria for about an hour arguing about which way to get out of Peoria. We are very good about arguing about directions; we’ve had lots of practice. The only thing different was that I had to argue in a whisper, and eventually I succumbed to pressure and let Conrad buy a map. The map showed us that the fastest way home was another hour out of our way. So we took it.

Now. We were finally on the right road, and the kids were in the back seat asleep for the night. No one was throwing up. No one had an allergic reaction to some unknown substance. Everyone had pooped. I still couldn’t talk, and Conrad couldn’t see out of his left eye, but three out of five ain’t bad. You’d think all would be just swell.

And it was, until the storms started. Conrad was driving. It was dark. He was blind in one eye. We couldn’t even see enough to pull over to the side of the road, and the water was about three inches covering the interstate. This lasted from somewhere in Illinois until somewhere over the Wisconsin line. The good news is that we had money for the toll.

When it stopped raining about 10:00 p.m., I took over driving while Conrad went to sleep for the night. Somehow I made it home, rolling into (OurTown) at 3:12 a.m. I don’t know how I did it, though, as I don’t remember anything about those last five hours. I did realize, though, how I probably lost my voice. I couldn’t sing along to the radio or anything on the trip home, as I couldn’t sing. But on the way down, the girls and I were singing our hearts out…all ten hours of the trip. That could have been it.

Someone once said, “No vacation goes unpunished.” I concur.