Sunday morning was fairly normal. We had moved all of our personal possessions out of storage and into our new rental house the day before; so maybe we were a little tired. Zeke didn't eat all of his waffles for breakfast but I didn't think much of it because he ate well the night before. He played and laughed and tickled with Daddy, and then we went to church.
When we picked Zeke up from children's church, he was more clingy than normal, but that wasn't unusual because he gets overwhelmed very easily and there were MANY more children than usual. Our little family, under the cover of a nice church member's huge umbrella, braved the rain to get into the car and drive to our new home. I turned around to strap Zeke into his car seat, and he looked at me with wide eyes, looking as if he was about to cry. I asked, "Zeke honey, what's wrong? Are you sad?" He nodded "yes" and said he was wet (we all were from the torrential downpour) and asked "Too wet. Mommy wipe it?" and pointed to his arm. So I did. I wiped the rain off my little boy's arms and legs and it seemed that he perked up.
Driving through the flooded streets of downtown Orlando, we were discussing where to go for lunch and formulating a plan to put Zeke down early for his nap based on the continual yawning coming from the back seat. We got onto the interstate and decided to take a different exit, a couple of miles away from our usual one, that would be closer to our new house. Zeke started to cough, and we didn't think anything of it because he had an allergy cough for about a week and we hadn't given him his medicine. Then he started mumbling. Red flags went up for Josh and I so I turned around and asked him what was wrong. A couple coughs and more mumbling. So I asked again, "Bubba, what's wrong?" To which he said, "My tummy's full. Please to kiss it, mommy?" So I kissed my fingers and touched his belly. The look on his face was not good. I turned to Josh--"Is he going to..."
Two coughs, I turn back to him and try to get my lunch bag to his mouth but it's too late.
All over himself and his car seat. He was holding his special stuffed animal, Harvey Hamel the Camel, who seemed unscathed. The vomit ran down through the creases in his car seat onto the seat of the car and...yuck.
Then he began to cry. "Wipe it, mama!!!" Please picture this with me. I am turned completely around in the front passenger seat, wiping vomit off of my son's bare arms, legs, and clothing. And then I realize, "what am I going to do with the wipes now that they've got vomit all over them?" With deft precision I reach into the door's pocket and get an old Ziploc bag (you know you have a stash of them from car snack-time, too). So now I am turned completely around in my seat wiping vomit off of my son and tossing the vomitous wipes into an old sandwich baggie. It was quite a sight. We were able to get to the next exit, which was our old exit, and get to my parents' house.
It was disgusting.
You could say that our original plans to finish moving out of my parents' house because, well, something came up.