Christi and I (and some of our extended family) often comment on the charmed life I lead. It's really true. (Somewhere in my youth or childhood...I must have done something good...although I would be hard pressed to pinpoint what it was!?!) Anyway, here are a few examples of the way things work out for me. If I'm running late to catch an airplane, the airplane will (often, but not always:) be delayed. I got laid off effective April and found a great new job in March (and got a nice severance from Pfizer). The company I worked for paid $10,000 toward each of our adoptions (the final $10,000 being paid after I was laid off!!!) The prospects for our importing business have gone from good to better to ridiculous over the past year and a half. And of course, most important of all, I somehow conned the cutest EFY counselor on campus to marry me 11 years ago! So we often comment on how someone up there is looking out for me. (Poor Christi got stuck with me, so the charm level is somewhat less in her life, but we both agree we really do have things great:)
That's not to say we don't have our challenges. In fact, we often have some pretty big ones. But we work together and we make the best of things. Overall, It's a Wonderful Life (I'm going to see how many movie references I can put into this thing. By the way, for those of you young folks who've never seen Jimmy Stewart in "It's a Wonderful Life," it is perhaps the best movie ever made. I love it, anyway.)
So let me just share a few things that have happened over the past week that are some of the small, but funny, challenges we've had. Last Friday night, Taylor, Parker and I flew to Tennessee to visit some of our many friends there. (You guessed it: the stress level in my life decreased substantially when I found out the flight was delayed 15 minutes:) Anyway, we spent a wonderful weekend there catching up with a lot of people. It was great. The schedule for Monday was this: Christi would drive up to the airport around 10:45 am to get the boys from me. We would have about 90 minutes to sit in the car, eat lunch, talk, and hold Xander before I had to go back into the airport and catch a flight to Las Vegas for a business meeting. (Why in the world would a company plan a business meeting in Las Vegas? But I digress...) When I talked to Christi on Sunday night to verify the plans for pick up, she realized that Elli's school bus would be coming around 11:00 and she had to pick Jesi up from school at 11:20. This was going to cut into our time at the airport, but that was ok.
The next morning, Jesi was feeling really sick, so she didn't go to school. As soon as Christi got Elli on the school bus, she was able to leave to come get us. When they were just a few minutes out from the airport, Jesi says to Christi, "Mom, I have to grow up!" (That's how she says "throw up.") Christi tried to get over to the side of the road so she could find a bag or something for Jesi to "grow up" in, but, alas, it was not to be. Vomit all over Jesi and her carseat. So when she showed up to the airport a few minutes later, poor Jesi is covered in gunk. Fortunately (hey, I said we lead a charmed life) Christi had purchased a new pack of wet wipes the night before and they were still in the car. Christi got Jesi all cleaned up. Although we didn't have a change of clothes, Christi was wearing a cardigan type sweater over her white shirt and was able to wrap Jess in that. (Jesi looked rather cute wearing nothing but her undies and a sweater that, on her, was really low cut--as in down to her belly button:) We get Jesi buckled into another seat (we have plenty of those in our vehicle!) and just as we got her settled, she says, "I have to go to the bathroom very bad." Of course you do, dear.
Her shoes and socks had come off in the clean up efforts, so Christi carried her into the airport bathroom while I stayed with the other kids in the car. By they way, we were still parked in the loading zone at the terminal. Fortunately it was a slow time of day, and no one made us leave. Jesi came back and we all sat in the car and ate the (cold by now) pizza that Christi had brought since I wasn't coming home for lunch. At one point, Christi leaned over the open pizza box in her lap to get the bottle of Sprite from near her feet, and of course she ended up with pizza grease all over the front of her shirt:) As we were eating, Xander yelled out from the back seat his Chinese version of "I have to go to the bathroom." Of course you do, son. So I took him to the bathroom. End result? We had about 15 minutes to enjoy each others' company before I took off for another 4 days.
So I've been in Vegas all week. I don't drink. I don't gamble. I'm a happily married man. That doesn't leave you much to do in this town. But last night, a few of us decided to go to a Cirque du Soleil show. It's called "O". It's the one with a pool for a stage and is quite amazing and very wierd. Prior to the show, we went to a restaurant and had dinner. As we got to the theater, I started feeling sharp pains in my stomach. About 20 minutes in, I knew I better head to the bathroom. WARNING: the rest of this paragraph is a bit graphic. Read at your own risk! I knew I needed to throw up, but it wouldn't come. After about 20 minutes of praying that I would puke, I finally resorted to the "gag myself" method, and oh, did the floodgates open! Something I ate did NOT agree with me. So, picture a poor guy, stuck in a theater bathroom (missing a very expensive show, by the way, which at the time was the least of my worries), and heaving in front of a toilet that is now filled with a very nasty, opaque millieu. Then picture the poor guy as he heaves once more...and his cell phone slips out of his pocket into the brink!!! (Which, by the way, is why I haven't called you to wish you happy birthday this morning, sweet Christianne. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!) I made the decision in a split second and retrieved said phone. Of course having eaten much and feeling so sick to my stomach, I had undone my belt and the top of my pants. So I'm stumbling out of the stall with a puke-covered phone in one hand, holding my pants up with the other hand and reeling like I had been drinking as I go to the sinks. Fortunately, I was the only one there, but I'm sure it would have made a funny picture.
After returning home, I had a few more gut wrenching episodes in the bathroom, including one in which I didn't quite make it to the toilet and threw up in the sink. I got it mostly unclogged, but still had to call maintenance for help. (What's the problem sir? Uh, well, you see, I um, lost my cookies in the sink and, um, I need you to unclog it. Sorry!) This morning I feel somewhat better, but am still pretty queasy. I guess this is one way to lose a little weight.
So, the moral of the story? Vegas' new theme is at least somewhat true for me: "What I ate in Vegas, stays in Vegas!"
Have a great day, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Christi. Congratulations on reaching 29, dear!