So, as you know, (or may not; whatever) we were in NYC this weekend to see the Mets play at Shea. We'd hoped to just hang out in the Urban Oasis all afternoon 'til game time, but the weather was crap. We decided instead to go to a movie. Let me tell you, those of you with kids: two huge thumbs up for "How to Eat Fried Worms." It was even good for my 6 year-old. Really funny, excellent gross-out scenes and a wonderful message delivered without schmaltz.
We treated the kids to snacks galore and slushies. The boys picked candy as they always do, but my daughter loves popcorn. Hubby asked if she wanted the medium or the small. Oh the medium for sure daddy, don't be silly. After the movie, she made a point of showing me just how much of that medium popcorn she finished, illustrating why a small just would not have done.
When we got back to "mama's" house somebody didn't feel well, go figure. I had her sit on the toilet, lay down. She would complain on and off about feeling like she had to throw up, but nothing came of it, and I brushed it off knowing how much crap she had at the movies. Finally some chicken broth helped, and she would not hear of being left home from the baseball game; she wanted to go very badly.
Since there were nine of us, (five of us and my dad, bro, his SO, and sis) my other sis arranged for a van to take us, and avoid the traffic and parking. Sweet, huh?
You know where this is going don't you?
About halfway to the stadium, dearie darling spews forth green vomit all over her lap and the seat of the van. She did catch some of it. LOL As much as it wasn't funny, it was---you know what I mean. The driver pulls over, hubby gets girlie out of the car, and the driver runs a block or two back for paper towels. We make mental notes to up his tip. Someone asked, "WHy is it green, what did you eat?" She answered, "It could have been the yellow popcorn mixed with the blue slushie." See, that lesson on colors paid off.
We clean her up, but now we have to decide, back home to change her clothes, or is there a store nearby we could grab her something (like pay for it not steal it!) since there is a shopping strip along a nearby boulevard. Ten minutes later, my daughter is very "Jenny from the block" in her cropped jeans, pink tee, and short camo hoodie. The boots she had been wearing went perfect, as did the olive cap with the camo Mets logo her uncle bought her at the game. My sister told she was very ghetto, pronounced "ge-het-to" (kind of like "Tarjay" or "Jacque Paney".)
We were in our seats for the first pitch, and they had a blast. I then ate myself almost sick with sausage and peppers, and cheese fries. Washed down with many Bud Lites of course. The Mets won! I hopefully will have someone to root for in October because God knows the Red Sox won't be there.