Every Cloud Has a Soggy Lining

Every rose has it's thorn. Every day, a new dawn. Every alcoholic, a hangover.

I dare you to guess where this is going.

Since life has been the most intense roller coaster ever the last few weeks, we decided that today was a good day to do something fun as a family. It went exactly as planned. Felix had to work, Savannah had to babysit and I had to do the Mount Himalaya version of laundry. See...exactly as planned. We rolled with the punches, and were able to still find a good activity...even if it did start a bit later than we had anticipated.

I love to read. LOVE to read. I love books. I love the images and colors and scenes that are created in my mind by a talented author. I'll read just about anything (no smut please, I'm Mormon). I have enjoyed sci-fi, fiction, non-fiction, fantasy, horror...you name it, I've darn near tried it.

I was so excited when I saw that Inkheart was made into a movie. I have loved the book, and couldn't wait to see the movie. Noah was so excited he actually started reading the book. I don't know how far he got, but who cares...this one was ALL ABOUT ME.

We made it to the 4:30 showing. Wahoo matinee pricing. Caleb was finally old enough to sit still. I had the popcorn and my contra-ban caffeine free Diet Coke. I was ready. Oh yeah. Made sure the kids were settled in their assigned seating (yes we do assigned seating based on who likes each other on that particular day), enough treats, drinks and horrific threats to keep them still through the entire thing.

It began. I was riveted to the screen...I just had to know whether the visual adventure was going to be as good as the movie in my head. So far, so good. Of course not exact, but hey, it's Hollywood...do you really expect them to be true to the tale?

I was mesmerized until Caleb decided it was time for musical chairs. After hitting two people trying to move, changing his seat and idle threats...he and I headed out. After a solid 30 minute battle of the wills (which I won...duh), we went back in for take 2. I missed like the majority of the basis for the movie...who cares...I read the book!

And 5 minutes later, it was time for a round of up and down the stairs. One warning...one warning ignored and back down we went. Ummmmm, remind me why I like the back row so much (This is your question dad...I'm pretty sure you are the one that made us do that...just like how you have to sit in the corner of a restaurant so that you don't miss anything).

After another round of battle of the wills...seriously, I was still winning...we went back in. But this time, he had to put his head down and be held. Oh yeah...I am that kind of mom. And 5 minutes later and an interruption from a 7 year old who needed to use the 'facilities', and we were back down and out.

I was so over it. I'm done. Strike 3. Hasta la Vista...there will be no 'I'll be back' (Yeah Arnold Schwarzenegger). Since I had already missed like ummmm, the movie, we weren't going back in. Instead, Caleb decided it would be fun to stage the tantrum of the century in the hallway of the movie theater, where all of the people who went to the movies without children, gleefully stared at us while thinking "At least this time it isn't my kid". Oh I know what you were thinking...I could see it in your eyes!

After one sympathy stare from a mother who had just calmed down her child, I looked at Caleb and explained, AGAIN, we were done. At which point he chose to scream himself into such a tizzy that he made one loud, foreboding "BLEGHT" sound. I looked at him and warned him to calm down because if he threw up on me, I would be more furious than I was at that moment.

***SIDE NOTE***: DON'T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT OUT LOUD....BAD KARMA.

Caleb calmly looked at me and proceeded to vomit all over me, all over him, and all over me some more. I believe at that moment, there were actually no words. Nothing could have touched that picture perfect Kodak moment. While all of the teenage theater employees were backing away, a kind couple who have actually seen a child vomit before went and got me paper towels.

As gracefully as I possible could, I began to clean. 10 paper towels later, we were in the same situation. Finally, one teenage theater employee who had not yet been smacked down by the smell, ventured to near enough that she couldn't gracefully ignore my pleas for MORE FREAKIN' PAPER TOWELS PLEASE.

I spent the next five minutes trying to hide the chunks and soak up the spillage. After that, I no longer cared. I was sitting on a floor, in a theater, with a 3 year old and possibly one of the worst natural disasters the world had ever seen indoors, at a theater. Why even try to get up. All the chunks were just going to fall to the floor. We sit, we wait.

Finally, it's over. People come streaming out, looking at me, looking at Caleb, while I try to disguise the Toxic Spill. Savannah comes out, takes a look at me, misses the entire thing and tells me my purse is heavy. DUH I had to sneak in everyones treats. Noah, Baylee and Felix came out next. Felix knew. Just by looking at me. Not about the vomit, but that I was perturbed beyond measure. A quick explanation, and inward hysterical laugh at the faces filled with disgust as I stood up and we headed home.

We made it home as quickly as humanly possible. 1. I was mad. 2. I was covered in vomit. 3. Caleb was covered in vomit. 4. It smelled. And by the time we got home, Caleb was sound asleep in his comfy, cozy, stinky world.

I scooped him up and headed to the bathroom for decontamination. As we walked through the door, he looked at me and said, "Mom, I have tantrum all over me. So do you."

Lessons Learned
1. Never, ever, Never, ever, Never, ever wear a hoodie with a front pocket to a movie with a child who may scream until empty.
2. Nothing makes up for a vomit filled family day...except for an innocent comment about where it all came from.
3. I'm really mad I missed the movie.
4. I would go by myself, but I don't want to be the loser that goes to the movies all by herself.
5. Maybe one day I will be able to sit through a movie with my kids. Maybe.