The Party

Saturday was my son's BBQ at his place. He lives two hours away and I haven't seen him for a long time, so I really wanted to go. My daughter was working, so this meant that Cute Hubby and I would take our grand daughter with us.
The day started out pretty well, as the weather was mild and we were all in good spirits. We stopped a few times on the drive down to pick up some bread, cheese, & beer to contribute, and this broke up the drive nicely for the baby so she could stretch her legs.
When we arrived, the baby had fallen asleep, so I let her nap in her car seat while we got settled. Then I set about taking some photos of the property. Ahhh, what a lovely start to...."The Day the Baby Came to the Party".
From the minute she awoke, she tried to climb the stairs, jump in the pond, throw gravel at the cars, run towards the street, run away from me, scare the cat, scare the dog, refuse to eat anything other than grapes & cheese puffs, and scream at full tilt when she was not allowed to do any and all of these things. We stayed for four hours. Four long hours.
At one point, as I was chasing the baby, I overheard one of my son's friends say "She's so thin" (about me, not the baby), to which the other friend replied "She never stops running". Well, that's swell. Now I'm "the thin lady who never stops running".
When it was time to leave, I said my good-byes, and put the over-tired, screaming baby into the car....and there we sat for ten minutes while Cute Hubby said his good-byes. Amazingly, the baby was happy to be in the car, and sat contentedly looking out of the window. Finally, Cute Hubby arrives and we get to leave, smiling & waving good-bye to our wonderful childless friends, who look rather relieved to see us go.

Me: I couldn't get the baby to eat much.
Cute Hubby: She had some cheese, and some cheese puffs. (like cheese puffs are food)
Me: When we get home, I'll give her some of that soup that I made.
Cute Hubby: Honey, I didn't like that soup.
Me: Why not?
Cute Hubby: Because those beans were soaked in salted water and turned kind of black, so I think they were dead.
Me: So, are you saying I made a "soup of death"?
Cute Hubby: I guess so. But that's o.k., honey. It doesn't amount to a hill of beans. (smiling at me like that's just so witty)

There was not much else said for the remainder of the ride home, except for the cheerful exchange of babble between Cute Hubby and the baby. About a half an hour left to go, and we hear a kind of a wet, gurgling noise from the back seat.

Me: I think the baby is car sick. Could you please turn on the car light and check.

Cute Hubby proceeds to click the light on and quickly shuts it back off.

Cute Hubby: It's not good.
Me: What do you mean?

The sound of more gurgling comes from the back seat. Cute Hubby flicks on the car light and I glance back at the baby, who is covered in her own slime, completely. She is smiling back at me while she rubs her slimy hands over her slimy face and through her slimy hair.

Me: Shut the light off. We need to pull over.

So, we pull the car over, and clean up the baby mess. Then Cute Hubby and the baby take a little walk while I clean up the car mess.
When we finally pick our daughter up from work, she gets to the car door, looks in, and says "Is it all pukey in there"? To which I reply with a bold faced lie "No. Get in".
We drove home with the windows open. When we got home, my daughter put the baby in the bath, while I hosed down the car seat and warmed up some "death soup".