Day 537: Some Day, I’ll Look Back On This and Laugh…

Probably.  Maybe.  Who knows.  There are days that we all have that make us question whether or not we should have even gotten out of bed.  Seriously.  And, some day, I’ll look back on the events of the day and laugh.  Just not today.

Today’s adventures began with preparations for an expedition to the tribal elders – a trip that we embark on frequently and today was no different.  Having multiple purposes for said visit, I began packing the necessary articles and provisions for the excursion – items I would need for business purposes, necessary provisions for the natives including multiple changes of clothing, security blankets and the like – all of which was  placed into the tribe’s secondary mode of transportation because it needed to be examined for its road-worthiness.

I wish to back up now to a conversation I had with the tribal leader one night prior to today’s, or rather this morning’s, events.  The whole conversation was quite inconsequential except for when the tribal leader inquired about needing the portable vehicle media players for the impending journey.  I said no.  We’d be “alright without them,” which was perhaps my first major mistake.

Fast forward to the following morning – the natives were awakening from their slumbers and were groggy to say the least.  In their drunken, groggy state, I attempted to change their disposable undergarments, which were completely saturated, and attempted to dress them for the days activity.  Dressing a young, half-awake native is much like trying to fold jello.  They’re not purposely tenacious, however they aren’t being cooperative either.  After the dressing ordeal, I continued to get the necessary provisions for the natives (they come with many) and attempt to get on the road before affording them sustenance, figuring that stopping at a local coffee establishment for nourishment and a cup of that magical elixir would suffice.  Mistake number 2.

Once strapped, secured and otherwise fastened into their respective seating apparatuses, we began our journey.  The first stop was to make a deposit into a monetary institution; the second, coffee and sustenance; the third, fuel for the vehicle.  Then we attempted to make the trek to the tribal elders.

The first leg of the journey went ok, the natives babbled and talked to each other and to me as we drove down the high-speed roadway.  Once of the high-speed roadway, we proceeded to get behind every fucking slow-poke on the road.  No joke.  Where one turned off, two more got on – it was like a bad mathematics word problem.  As we proceeded to get closer and closer to the tribal elders abode, I attempted to reach them by telephone – to no avail. Hmmm.  I was quite sure the of the plans that had been set with them last week.  Perhaps I should have contacted them last evening.  Turds.  Regardless, we continued.  When we were but ten to fifteen minutes from our destination, the flood gates opened.

Perhaps my timing was spot on, perhaps it was ill-planned.  Whatever the case is or was, I turned back to look at the natives just in time to observe Tuesday throw up.  All over herself, her security blankets and her seating apparatus.  Fuck.  Still behind the slowest fucking person in the world, I continued to drive the vehicle up their ass.  Like so close they probably have a fucking Isuzu indentation on their vehicle.  Tuesday appeared to be ok, though she was now quiet and…well…soaked in vomit.  Wonderful. Fucking wonderful.

I attempted to contact the tribal elders again to inform them of the state of our impending arrival. Nothing.  Double turds.  Luckily for me, I had a key to the tribal elders abode.  All was not lost – yet.

Winding our way up the hill to the tribal elders abode we went, Tuesday still rather quiet, soaked in puke, Wednesday babbling on and on about the tribal elders.  I parked the vehicle and quickly thought about my plan of attack – who to get first?  The clean, non-puke covered native or the native that was going to require disrobing and a major cleanup effort.  I decided to grab Wednesday, who in that moment was not sick.  Yet.

I quickly flung open the door to the vehicle, just in time for Wednesday to throw up.  All. Over. Herself.  And this wasn’t just liquid – no, no.  Curdled milk.  With a stench rivaling cat urine or skunk spray or the foulest of odors one can imagine.  And, the best, or rather the worst part, was the tribal elders were not home.

Gathering what composure I had in that moment, because I figured this was God’s way of punishing my ass for leaving the toilet seat up or drinking the last of the lemonade from the pitcher and not refilling the fucking thing.  Whatever it was, God was getting me good.  I sought entry to the tribal elder’s house for something to clean up the natives with – a roll of paper towels was the quickest thing – and returned to the now pungent smelling vehicle.

Tuesday was laughing at the vomiting antics of her younger sibling, who was now disoriented and wondering what the fuck just happened.  You and me both kid, you and me both.  I cleaned up Wednesday enough to get her to the abode and once inside, stripped her down to her disposable undergarment.  One down, one to go.  I returned to the vehicle for Tuesday and proceeded to perform the same actions on her.  Their clothing went straight into the mechanical clothes washing apparatus and I then returned to the vehicle.  Wednesday’s seat was awful – just plain fucking terrible. It was going to require more attention than I could give it in that moment.  Thus, I returned to the tribal elder’s abode, anxious for their return.

Tuesday and Wednesday went about their business like ServPro – like it never even happened.  Because I’m a smart kid, I packed extra clothing for the natives.  I’ve been down this road before and have learned.  I dressed them, again, and waited.

Soon the tribal elders returned and the natives seemed elated at their arrival.  So was I.  The natives ate, played, got new foot coverings, ate again and bathed.  However, the moment I was both anxious for and feared was now here.  The ride home.

I packed the vehicle with all the provisions we arrived with, with additional foot coverings purchased for the natives by the tribal elders.  We said our goodbyes and one by one, each native was fastened into their CLEAN seating apparatuses.  Please don’t throw up.  Please don’t throw up.  And thus, we proceeded to come back to the tribal abode.

I am pleased to say that the trip back was successful.  Both natives fell asleep on the way and thus no more vomiting episodes today.  Thank God.  Considering it’s the last day of the month of thankfulness, I am thankful that today is over.  I am thankful that the natives are not sick (I hope) and that there were no more vomiting episodes today.  And, I’m sure, one day, I’ll look back on this and laugh.  Perhaps.  Maybe.  Who knows.


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