International House of . . . .

Ok let me start by telling you that my daughter has this thing about sticking things in her diaper and pretending they are "all gone". We are at IHOP this past Friday evening and the green crayon she had been playing with went "all gone". After about 3 minutes she satrts saying "Owie butt!" at the top of her lungs. I reach in and retreive the crayon that was lodged sideways in the back of her diaper. As if this wasn't enough fun for the night about 10 minutes after got our food she starts grabbing her stomach and saying "Owie Mommy" over and over. I think she is simply trying to get out of the high chair. I keep telling her she's fine.

Finally I am tired of hearing her whine and I get up to pay the bill thinking a change of scenery would help. I take her hand. The "Owie"s get louder. I reach the counter and pick her up just as I hand the credit card to the girl at the counter. The next minute I realize that my lovely daughter is projectile vomiting down by arm, down my front, down my back, and all over the display case where the register is. You need to understand my daughter is a good puker. She doesn't even heave, she just lets it all go. The poor 17 year old at the counter had no idea what to do. She says "I'll go get towels" she then returns with 2 small dishtowels to clean up this mammoth pile of . . . well, you know.

My mom was bringing my son to me after taking him on a "date". She drove into the parking lot just as I was flying outside to escape the embarassment and prepare for the next wave. Luckily she had a towel in her van. I pulled off my nasty shirt (Much to the dismay of my stepfather) right in the parking lot and put on my jacket. We then ripped off my daughter's clothes and wrapped her in the towel.

It was quite a scene. I will never be able to step foot in that IHOP again. I also will never be able to call it International House of . . . Pancakes again.