I just got back from a busy long weekend in Richmond. My little 3 month nephew is so cute. No pictures as my camera is just not really coming through these days – ugh. He’s such a cutie and just staring to smile and coo and babble. And with all my practice with babies recently we had a quick connection and I became a pretty good caregiver. I even got to babysit some.
On Tuesday we had to make it to Norfolk on the coast for an early morning appointment. I decided to set my alarm for 5:30 as I didn’t want to wake up at 5 am. I get up and the house is quiet and dark. I go down and get breakfast and it’s still quiet. So finally I go in and wake my step-sister and brother in law up. They had turned off the alarm! The danger of setting it too early in the morning.
We make it to the appointment with time to spare. I get to watch my little nephew as his parents go in for the interview. And no more than 5 minutes after they leave, I’m holding the little guy on my lap – playing and feeding, and he lets one rip. I was pretty sure it was a poop although he apparently has a pretty mean (i.e. loud) fart too. I was giving him a little bit more time in case he wasn’t done, when I start to realize I feel moisture. I pick him up, and yup there’s a small stain on my jeans. But is it milk? Nope. So I find a bathroom which luckily had a nice large counter – you start noticing these amenities with a wee one. I open him up and the force has shot the poo down both legs! But he loves getting his diaper changed (even tried to wee on me the previous day – fun game, but I won that round). As I’m cleaning I’m thinking, man the diaper should have been more tightly secured and this wouldn’t have been as bad. I was about to curse whoever it was who diapered him last, when I stopped short, realizing it was me. Doh. So get him cleaned up, outfit changed and back out to the waiting room to check and make sure no one walked away with the car seat carrier. There was security but you never know what people will walk away with.
Ended up swinging by the outlet stores on the way back. We went to a ton of stores and I was exhausted about half way through. But did soldier on and stop by the ESPRIT store minutes before we were scheduled to leave for the airport. And found a pair of jeans! Kindof. I was rushed and even if I wasn’t I still seem to do this. I try on pants and they fit in the dressing room but then I wear them at home and they’re either too big (most of the time) or too small. It’s like shoes – they say not to try on shoes at certain times of the day because your feet swell after walking around a bunch. Well, apparently so does my butt or something. Hopefully a wash will set things right. I run out of the store into the waiting car to make it to the airport with moments to spare due to construction traffic. And of course, they wait to tell us after they board us on time and pull away from the gate, that Boston weather has us scheduled to sit and wait for an hour. I was ready to watch some tv and take a nap. Except I had a talker next to me. Once I accepted it I enjoyed the conversation. He was this older fellow who worked in the building industry. So we shared stories and experiences. Moved onto cars near the end and he approved of my latest purchase – good, reliable car. Ended up swapping business cards after getting off. Good contact. And as he said, what was the likelihood that we got seated next to each other – sharing the same profession. He said the conversation helped make the delay and flight fly by (he travels a bunch for work – day flights).
Oh, and can I just wrap this all up and spend a little time complaining? I’ve finally logged my miles from the latest flights over the past year and a half. Keep in mind I’ve flown to the Middle East via Europe three times, one trip in Europe, and a few trips in the US. I should have enough miles to pay for my flight to Paris this summer, right? Nope, not even close. One of the long trips I flew a different airline. I have 53,000 miles. That doesn’t even get me a one way ticket to Europe (55,000 miles). This is why I stopped participating in the frequent flyer programs. So frustrating. All those miles, I would think I would get something more out of them. Oh well, it’s not like I played for the long flights.
No comments:
Post a Comment