45 minutes before the sitter is scheduled to arrive, she calls. Her cat is puking up blood and has a cracked tooth. A quick vet visit later and the cat has a serious infection in its gum and needs to have the tooth pulled. Problem is the cat is almost 17 and has asthma so surgery isn't an easy option. Yikes.
Quick call to NY-bound friends....can't make it. Rain check soon please?
I didn't shave my legs and put on mascara for nothing. Fiona, go put on matching clothes. We're going out to dinner. As one of our favorite places to enjoy a family meal out, Settebello in The District never fails us. The special tonight was the Raphael with salame, basil, and roasted onions. Yum. Then we went to the Carousel for a ride. Or four. Free all summer. Sweet!
We had previously made the decision to forgo the gelato at Settebello and hit Ben & Jerry's instead. Fiona got her vanilla cone and we were happy to stroll through the shopping village. There was music; it was getting louder. Oh, look. Bubbles. Lots and lots of bubbles. Fiona actually stopped in her tracks and leaned backwards to make sure she saw what she thought she saw. BUBBLES!
And dancing green lights. And kids. And....and....and a man giving out free bead necklaces. Preschooler heaven on earth. Fiona found the girl that was sitting at the table next to ours at Settebello. We did the adult thing and introduced ourselves to her parents while the girls ran all over the place. Hi. Are you originally from here? Do you have favorite playgrounds in the area? Do you come here often?
The dads indulged the girls with spinning and lots of Ring Around the Rosy. A thought ran through my head.....I hope we don't have to leave in tears again. The last time we left the dancing and music there was a meltdown. Another girl was practicing her cartwheels. All I saw was her foot whack my kid's face and two girls crash to the ground. Anthony rescued her from the play area and brought her to me. And then there was blood. Fiona had her first bloody nose. Awwww....her first bwoody nose....
Anthony has left the scene to gather paper towels from the restroom. I turn to follow and...oh..god...what is that warm.....PUKE! all down the left side of my body. And we're walking.....puking....walking.....bleeding.....all that fussing about not getting pizza sauce on her dress seems a bit ridiculous now. The other mom whom we just met followed us to the girls room to make sure Fiona was alright. She had wet wipes in her purse. Good woman. I would have asked if we could trade numbers if I wasn't covered in vomit. Hi. Can we be friends? I don't usually smell like this.
We get to the car and there's no way I'm sitting in a wet pukey shirt all the way home. The teenagers making out in front of REI won't mind if I take my shirt off in the parking lot. Like I care at this point. It's one of those moments when giving a shit about what other people think goes out the window because it's more important to minimize the spreading of the puke stink. I already happen to know how hard it is to get that special kind of stink out of a seatbelt.
Fiona did really well considering she got clocked in the face. She got a quick shower and a dose of Advil before passing out in the bed that she is making by herself these days (high five to Gran-E on that!).
At the end of the day, we have a clean house, we did not have to go to the emergency room, we did some serious family bonding, and we have a working washing machine. All's well that ends well. Or something.