We’re back from the school carnival.  We spent the first hour and a half in the cafeteria, eating overpriced junk food.  Pizza, chips, hot dogs, soda.  It wasn’t that the kids ate so much food, but they took their sweet time with it.  Especially Elvis, who nursed that 12 oz. can of soda so long, I thought the whole shindig would be over before the last drop touched his lips. 

The problem was that we couldn’t have food or drink outside the cafeteria, so we were effectively quarantined there until Elvis decided he was all done.  Of course I understand why they don’t want any food or drink outside the cafeteria on Carnival Day–would you want to clean up after 3,000 people tromped through the building with foodstuffs and little children?–but it was still annoying, especially because Mister Bubby started whining about wanting to go play games, but he refused to go by himself (Princess Zurg having tromped off with a friend about twenty minutes earlier), so we were all stuck there in the cafeteria and I really wanted to scream and/or punch someone.  Not the kids.  Maybe the principal I might have punched, had he walked by, but lucky for him, he did not.

Anyway, my babysitter happened to be at the carnival today.  Her son doesn’t go to MB’s school, but his cub scout troop had a booth at the carnival, so they were working it and decided to stay for fun and games and overpriced junk food.  Her son was the friend PZ had just tromped off with, and she said she’d take MB around to play games while I played the Waiting For Elvis To Finish Drinking His @#&$ Soda game.  Fifteen minutes later Elvis finally agreed to give up the can, and we were allowed to leave the cafeteria.

We walked into the gymnasium, which was full of folks playing various carnival games–you know, the kind that don’t interest any of my children–and when we’d reached the center of the room, Elvis threw up.

Well.  So much for keeping things tidy. 

This is when the principal did show up, but I didn’t punch him because, well, he’s really a pretty nice man, and I was mostly over all that anger over being trapped in the cafeteria with the Slowest Drinker On Earth, and also, I was so freaking happy that Elvis threw up someplace where I didn’t have to clean it up. 

I mean, imagine if he’d gotten sick in my car.  That would have been the worst!  My car’s disgusting to begin with, but adding vomit to the mix, I don’t know, I might have just intentionally driven us into a brick wall, just so I wouldn’t have to deal with it.  If he’d waited until we got home, that wouldn’t have been quite so bad, but he probably wouldn’t have done me the favor of losing it on the linoleum.  He always has to throw up on the carpet.  And this time he probably would have gone all the way upstairs just so he could throw up on the new carpet!  That would have really depressed me. 

So yeah, that was awesome.

The principal assured me that Elvis was not the only child to throw up today.  Which was kind of disappointing, as I rather enjoy the distinction.  Everyone step aside for the Traveling Vomit Show.  Thank you verrah much.

So Elvis and the baby and I went outside for some fresh air.  Elvis immediately spied the bouncers and proceeded to move to the front of the line, but of course I pulled him away.  I am a woman of little shame, but I seem to have just enough to prevent me from putting my kid in an inflatable bouncer thirty seconds after he’s lost his lunch in the most public of places.  He took it surprisingly well.  We played on the jungle gym instead.  Eventually we made our way to the swings.  He seemed to be feeling much better, but I figured if he did get sick again, well, throw-up flying from a swingset would be a new experience for all of us.  And again, it’s not like it was my car.

I could have sworn that trip to the carnival lasted four hours, but we were really only there for two and a half.  I can’t complain, though.  Seriously, he threw up in the school gymnasium.  How lucky can I be?

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