You know how when you’re anticipating something really big and then it goes by so quickly and your left with just memories? Almost a let down that it’s over. Well I’m kinda experiencing that right now, a post show blues after the art show. Not that the small rest isn’t welcome. At least not with the two days I’ve just had. Read on if you dare.

First, this past weekend at Christmas in New Harmony was lots of fun. I met some really fun and interesting people. I sold some art and had a grand time sharing a booth with my friend, Amelia, who sells jewelry.

We were fortunate enough to be right next to an amazing German Bakery booth that had the most delightful mother and daughter duo. They cut up samples all weekend long and kept us fat and happy. Oma Gisi’s German Bakery is their name and I highly recommend it for any yummy baked goods you may want. Oh man, the bread and sweets just melt in your mouth. Tanja makes all the product herself. The woman is a machine. They ship their yummies Fedex, so don’t worry about getting it stale. They get special ingredients sent from Germany from relatives so you really won’t taste anything like it! I thought I had died and gone to heaven with their version of pumpkin rolls and I can’t even convey how yummy their lemon sweet bread was. You can order online, too. Go like their Facebook page and tell ’em Jaime from New Harmony sent ya.

The Buick Story:
Wait! Stop! Go Back!

The following is not for the faint of heart or those with a weak stomach…

So, after tearing down the booth and getting home we go out to eat cause I ain’t cooking. No signs of what is to come. We choose our favorite Mexican Restaurant, Tequila’s, and it doesn’t disappoint. Everyone is feasting on chips and dip and happy. Fast forward to Monday morning oh about 4:30ish am. I hear frantic foot steps come into my room and up beside my bed along with splashing sounds and as I come to, I fly out of bed, knowing what is happening but unable to control the situation. Yes, my son has just ran in our room after puking all the way there. I yell “Run!” while running to the bathroom myself as I feel the hot yuckiness hit the back of my leg. Oh gag.

My poor baby hurls his little guts up. Nothing like getting out the steam cleaner at 4:30 in the morning. Three rooms. I was exhausted and so was he. The next day, more of the same and yay! wouldn’t you know it Big D makes an appearance as well! (That’s diarrhea if you didn’t catch that). He’s on the pot with the trash can in his lap. All I can do is hold the can and stroke his head while praying I don’t get it.

Well, surprise it’s only a 24 hour thing so yippee! School play was tonight. (Tuesday) He makes the play and we’re right in the front row and in front of him. He is on the bottom risers and all the 1st graders are singing and I recognize the look on some poor soul from the back row, just a few feet away! Oh yes. A kid from the back… covers his mouth and with eyes wide blows chunks all the way to the front narrowly missing my kid and me. Others did not fare so well. There was ick in girls hair, down their back, in the boys sweaters in front and all over the risers, on shoes! It was like a scene from out of The Witches of Eastwick.

I have to give the girls credit. There was no screaming, just shock. Total and utter shock. I frantically looked for any tissues or napkins I could find as one girl was truly starting to freak out. I gotta admit, I don’t blame her at all. I found just one and then poured hand sanitizer on everyone’s hands, pulled off a puke riddled sweater from one boy and watched them try to finish the play while covered in someone else’s upchuck. One boy started to tear up and I was in fear that he was next. Sometimes puke begets puke, ya know?! I ask him if he’s okay and then a teacher stood up and took the boy away to my relief.

The look on these kids faces, I tell you. But I couldn’t laugh, even though I wanted to. Six year olds would not think that was cool for sure and I didn’t want to do that to Asher. I really did feel bad for them though, but they carried on like troopers. No telling who’s it going to happen to next. Ahh… the joys of young school life. Coughing, sneezing and snottin’ all over each other, it’s a wonder I don’t send my son to school in a cape made of Lysol wipes.

Ok, so is it just me or does the little girl on the left and right of Asher not just crack you up? This is before the blowin’. This Christmas play was one for the books.