The big Flag Day celebration is over. It was actually over yesterday, but I was too tired to make my fingers type coherent sentences. At Miss Serious' school they do a lovely assembly where the children dress in red, white, and blue and sing patriotic songs. Miss Serious even got to introduce a song, and did a terrific job. With such a charming beginning, who could have predicted the mayhem that would shortly ensue?
After the Flag Day concert, it is the school tradition to have a cookout at a parent's home. We walk the students from the school to the designated house, and everyone has a great time, right? This was the way it worked last year, so I was lulled into a false sense of security.
This year I had no place to deposit Big Trouble, so I brought him with us, as did several of the parents there. The children ran around the yard, had lunch, and were generally having a blast. Being that we live where we do, the house where it was hosted was absolutely beautiful, and most of the mothers were dressed in snazzy sundresses and looking glamorous. I don't seem to have the knack for looking glamorous, so I looked like I usually do. I sat down in the shade with some of the other mothers and indulged in some grown-up talk. One of the mothers told me that Big Trouble needed me, so I turned around and he was standing next to me with his hand over his mouth. I thought he had been hit with a ball, but sadly it wasn't that easy - he promptly threw up all over the patio. It's always fun to be at someone else's house when your child does something like this; luckily everyone else there also had small children and understood, and the hostess calmly told her husband to get the hose, showed Big Trouble and myself to the tub, and brought him a change of clothes. Her husband also got to hose off Big Trouble's sandals - why do they always hit their feet?
Okay, a minor hiccup in the day, but we move on. In case anyone thinks I'm being cavalier about a child vomiting, I should mention that Big Trouble has the best gag reflex on the planet, and used to vomit several times a week when he got something into his mouth he didn't care for. The only good thing about such a strong reflex is that I'm pretty sure he will never choke - I could feed him marbles (I won't) and he'd figure it out. When I asked him why he lost it this time he said he had remembered something he ate earlier in the day that he didn't like.
About 5 minutes after this lovely event, the teacher brought a crying Miss Serious into the house; she had bumped her leg. We got some ice on it, and through the miracle of ice cream she promptly felt better.
Okay, everyone's back to having a good time; about 1/2 hour later, I'm told Miss Serious is in the house because she feels sick. Now I'm wondering if the planets have aligned in some bizarre fashion, because my children are generally pretty trouble-free. I find Miss Serious in the bathroom, where she hasn't actually gotten sick. When she mentioned how nice and cool the tile floor felt, I decided that she must be having trouble with the heat, so I wet down her head and neck with some cold water, handed her a bag (just in case), took her outside and hosed her down. After about 15 minutes of sitting on the cold, wet, shady grass, I could hear her laughing with her friends, and her color had changed from gray to her normal pink.
At this point I decided to cut my losses, pack up my children and head out. We had walked over, so took it slow (I poured water on their heads throughout the walk, which they found wildly funny) and made it home. They each took a cool shower, and I rewarded myself with Chinese food for dinner. At 8:30 I'd decided I had definitely had enough of this day, and went to bed.
I have a feeling (call me crazy!) that today will be better. All I can say is that it better be.