Ward Christmas Party Nightmare

This is going to be one of those things my youngest daughter will wish I had never recorded for posterity, but it's just too good to pass up.

Our ward Christmas dinner was last night. These are not generally my favorite church activities of the year... too many people, roving bands of kids in the halls, and to top it all off, my family is so large that I never really get to talk to anyone else... I'm too busy supervising/sitting on my children all night. This particular ward dinner was very well planned and executed, but still... I prefer the outdoor, summertime dinner and swimming party. Or the Relief Society dinners. You know, the ones where you leave your kids at home.

Anyway, we were eating and trying to corral the kids, but had briefly lost track of Annie. Suddenly, there she was... walking (make that waddling) towards us, with her pants pulled most of the way down. I flew out of my seat, pulled the offending pants up, (ignoring the titters around us) and whisked her to the bathroom. She was trying so hard... just hadn't quite made it in time. So...

I sent Emma to get the car keys from Tim and took Annie home to change her, hoping to make it back before my Dad sang in the program. We got back fairly quickly, and I snuck into the back of the cultural hall, intending to listen to the rest of the program. Then came the second (infinitely worse) surprise of the night:

Annie: "My tummy hurts, Mommy!" Followed by retching sounds.

Can I just tell you? I have great, self-sacrificing reflexes. My hand went up to her mouth, I turned her toward me, and I was out the door. We made it outside, throwing up all the way. It was pretty bad. And chocolately. But you didn't want to know that. Sorry.

I was soooooo grateful that I still had the car keys, because there was no way I was going back inside. When Annie finally finished ridding her stomach of dinner, she said, "Sorry, Mommy", in this sad little voice. Then we passed under a streetlight, and she said, "Look at us!" She was right, it was pretty scary. Both of us were covered... hair, shirts, pants, hands... when I undressed to take a shower, it was on my chest.

We drove home, I plopped her into the bathtub and ran to the other room to take a shower. We did not go back to the party again. I did have Tim make sure we hadn't dripped on our way out the door, but I was seriously good- he didn't find anything.

Later, I found out that Dad had sung while we were gone the first time. Yep. Next time, maybe I'll just quit while I'm ahead.