The Vomit Chronicles: In Flight

We are seated in the back (that wording almost makes it seem like someone pleasantly seats us in a quaint corner for a lovely dining experience) but no, we are seated dead last in a permenant upright position, directly in front of and next to the bathrooms of the gigantic plane.  We are still on Florida time, which would make it 11:30 p.m, when we begin our flight home to Seattle.  Around 11:00 p.m. Camille wakes up (we had a late for us dinner consisting of airport Mexican) and starts with the dreaded cough that stirs the stomach and always leads quickly to regurgitation.  We frantically search for puke bags and manage to get one to her mouth before the first blow.

Right at that moment, Gabe awakes and begins to scream exhausted, disoriented kid screams.  His legs hurl forward into the seat in front of him with extreme force several times.  I try to calm him and 15 minutes on a sleeping plane feels like holding my breath under water.  I pull him onto my lap and he says my legs hurt, my legs are in pain.  I realize from nothing other than wetness transferring to my legs that his pants are bodily soaked.  We go to the bathroom and he is still living in somebody else's existence.  Screams continue to greet me as we hull up in there. When we finally emerge, Gabe has woken most of the plane who have congregated outside in need of the bathroom as well.

Luckily, we had some shorts, shorts that would freeze Gabe out the entire flight.  During bathroom time, Camille filled up two bags with vomit which was given to me to hold while Gabe has all of my warmth draped on him.  I am left cold and tired, holding overflowing vomit bags while Brett, Camille, and Gabe return to sleep.