Not for the squeamish.
This will sound kind of lame, but the El Chico restaurant we have nearby our house is one of our favorite places for Mexican food. While we try to shy away from chains when it comes to dining out – because we don't do it often – this El Chico is a continual favorite. And it's not just because we usually have a coupon (buy one enchilada dinner, get one free!). The food and service is, 9 times out of 10, foodgasmic.
We don't normally turn to imbibing to while away our days, but the Petite Filet was craving a margarita after a particularly tough time at work. We also coincidentally didn't have an edible crumb of food in the house (thank goodness payday is Friday) and had another excuse.
So we had a nice dinner at El Chico. The Cutlet was hilarious, eating his requisite kiddie chicken strips, fries and Jell-O (alternately dipping his chicken in gravy and then the Jell-O). Everything was cool. We adults enjoyed a margarita apiece (hers frozen, mine on the rocks). Then we went to the car.
The Cutlet holds my hand on the way out, but then wants to be picked up so I do. I hand him off to the PF to put in his car seat while I go around to the other side to start the engine and crank up the air conditioning. Suddenly, the PF hollered "Whoa!!!" I looked up at my beautiful wife, who moments ago was smartly dressed in a pretty turquoise top and jeans. She was accessorized with little-kid vomit in a matter of seconds. Like someone had dumped a bucket of confetti over her head. That wasn't confetti on her, though. Neither was it confetti all over the car parked next to us (sorry, old ladies in the car next to us, if you wondered if Big Bird had an episode on your door handle).
The poor Cutlet isn't feeling well, but we never would have known it had he not refunded some of his dinner all over his momma. He is so amiable, even when sick, that he doesn't always give the outward signs of blah-ness that I know I do. When I feel sick, there's never a doubt 'cause everybody knows.
Short story long, the ride home wasn't a lot of fun. I had the A/C on, and the PF had her window down trying to choke back the chunks. That 10-minute ride seemed mucho longer. But I'm happy to report we did laugh a lot on the way home.
Then she bathed the Cutlet, took a shower, and I hosed off the car.
ewwww .. unfortunately i've had that happen before with my kiddos! i think us parents need to start keeping an extra t-shirt in the car for those situations!
I was a server at the El Chico in College Station for 3 years. The enchiladas at El Chico are OK. But the best thing to get htere is not on the menu. The chicken tacos cascabel. It is in the computer. You just have to ask the server for them.
I think all of us with little cutlets have dealt with some cutlet blowback now & again. It ain't pretty. Hope the little guy's feeling better!
My niece was that same way. She would actually chuke on you and then grin. Like Bill Cosby said kids do the damnedest things.
Ah, the joys of kiddies. Can't wait, I tell you, can't wait. Had a similar experience with my nephew when he was younger, except then it was nasty formula blurp blurp and not colorful confetti chunks. My condolences to the PF.
Vomit! Mmm..foodgasmic.
I'm going to start using that word in everyday conversation. "That looks foodgasmic!"
it's all those cheetos you've been feeding him! :)
Oh, the Cutlet sounds just like my little Valli, who never complains when he's ill...
My late cat used to love kiddie vomit.
Yet another hit to the snooze button on my biological clock! Thanks, T-Bone!!
That happens and so does something starting with 'S' with kids.
Have had someone's baby in my lap when certain loud sounds were made...next thing I knew the diaper was unable to cope with the size of the load. I believe that is what they call a shart!
Hope the Cutlet is Ok now.