This week was Spring Break. It was not filled with anything spectacular, however, hubby was going to have Friday off, so that was what we were looking forward to all week.
Our two oldest little men were SO excited because they were going to get to see this:
Earlier in the week we ate at a fast food place...with a name that can be found in a song about cow's with a moo-moo here and sheep with a baa-baa there...where in their little meals they got How to Train a Dragon toys. Those toys have been in both of their little grasps almost 24/7...yes they even have slept with them. Needless to say, seeing this movie was a much anticipated event!
Friday rolls along and movie plans are made. Three oldest little men...yes I am including hubby...are pretty darn excited. Not wanting to be left out I make the ultimate irrational decision...I decided I was going to the movie too, which meant smallest one was going to go with us. Yes, there was some delusion occurring. I just knew our just barely one-year-old would make it through an entire movie.
Now, no fear, we went into it with a game plan. FOOD and TREATS. LOTS of food and treats. We made the candy/snack aisle round at our local wally world and packed the diaper bag. No mention here about the dishonesty of bringing food into the movie theater, we still bought popcorn...after all this ended up being LUNCH and they needed some kind of substance...haha Mother of the Year Award goes to...
We got there early enough to get good seats. The oldest two were patiently waiting for the movie to start, but smallest one needed his goldfish/raisins/and juice box before the movie even started. UH OH, this wasn't looking good. A voice inside my head reminded me that if he filled up before the movie even started things were going to get rough later on...in my continued delusional state...I ignored the warning.
Fast Forward 15 minutes and two rushed potty breaks for our middle little man who first had to go, so they went. Then he didn't, so they came back. Well then he had to go again. Tried. Then didn't. So they came back to stay. Movie has now started. Right off the bat, it is a riot. All four of us with an attention span are loving the movie, all five of us with stomachs and taste buds are LOVING the tub of buttery popcorn.
Before I can wipe the grease off my hands, the squirming starts, babies not mine. Then he starts making noises. Immediately, I start devising a game plan in my head...throw more food at him...DOESN'T WORK. Give him an empty juice box to play with...DOESN'T WORK. Give him another full juice box...DOESN'T WORK.
About now I am hearing the victorious taunts of the voice in my head with snotty, I told you so's. I am also telling the voice in my head to eat it.
Alas, the voice was right...um so was hubby when he earlier that day snorted a laugh and said, "Really? You think he is going to last through a movie?"
I succumb and giving one last longing glance back at the rest of my family happily munching on gummy bears and sour patch kids, I go to exit the theater. As I get to the hallway still inside the theater, I have one last delusional thought..."I bet he just wants to crawl around. I will let him crawl...ignoring the thought of the FILTHY floor, telling myself I will bathe him immediately at home...around on the floor. He will totally stay right here and he will totally stay quiet. Then I will still get to watch the movie."
No one told him he was supposed to stay in one place. No one told him he couldn't sing and babble louder than I have ever heard. So I exited the theater and set up camp outside ready to wait out the rest of the movie...just a mere 1 hour and 15 minutes left. My mommy attitude took over and I decided at least we still went as a family, and at least the other two boys are enjoying themselves.
I thought our two oldest boys were enjoying themselves.
About 5 minutes after I took our smallest one out, the theater doors swing open, another poor parent having to leave the theater, probably for a potty break. I look up to give a look of sympathy at my fellow parent, and it is not just a fellow parent, but it is the other half to my parent combo. He is carrying our middle little man who is covered in...ew gross VOMIT.
Awesome! Can't we just have a normal family outing??? "Not at the movie whacko" says the voice in my head. Again I tell the voice to eat it.
Sped up the rest of this saga...
Hubby takes vomit child to the rest room, cleans him up, and then takes him to the car to wait out the rest of the movie.
Oldest little man, bravely watches the movie by himself, while I go in and out every 5 minutes to check on him.
I try staying in the theater by playing catch the socks...a game I made up using smallest ones balled up socks. It only lasts 5 minutes.
Smallest one screams every time I go back in the theater to check on oldest one.
Movie finally ends.
I tell teenage workers about my sons vomit seat and I start with "Sorry Fellas..."
Got rain check tickets for hubby and vomit child...no I won't call him that for the rest of his life.
Get to car to a wiped out little man who smells of vomit, and hubby says--
"I think he might have pooped his pants"
He didn't so we head home.
The rest of the day he looked like this--
Poor little vomit child.
Learn from my cautionary tale...I hope I do! I think we may be waiting a long time before we take the whole family to a movie. I may never be able to get the image of those poor regurgitated gummy bears out of my head.
PS Oldest Little Man LOVED the movie.
Oh yeah, and now the rest of our little men are all vomit fantastic.