So, yeah.

Friday is ice cream day at school during summer. Technically, popsicles, but whichever. They're usually chowing down right around the time I pick tze bebe up, and today I even got there a little earlier, so she got to eat it in the car.

Now, A. had to head out to Ellicott City to do some work this afternoon, so after some swift negotiation, I figured, I'll just drive tze bebe back with me to Baltimore so we get a little bonus bebe time this evening, and we coordinate meeting her mother out here once she's done with work.* Easy peasy.

Halfway on the hike back to Baltimore, bebe starts complaining about her tummy hurting. Uh oh. And I don't think she's faking it. So I ask her kindly to hold out and we will take care of her once we get home.

Make it back to the skypad parking lot, bebe is not happy. Get out, open the back door to free her, and BAM, right as I'm reaching for her straps, she spits up not only the popsicle but a fair amount of her lunch. She's not happy, I'm not happy, no one is happy. She's actually pretty good when she's sick, though. I mean, yes, she's sad and crying, but she does what she's asked without causing too much of a problem.** So, she sits there until she's done. Get her out of the seat as best we can. (The car seat straps? Soaked. The puke dripping to the empty space under the car seat? Bingo.) I toss an old t-shirt I have in the car around her, haul her up. (At this point, my cell phone rings. Funny.) Get her upstairs, M. takes charge of bebe operations.

I head back down, get everything out of the back seat. The seat itself wasn't as bad as I feared, cleaned up nicely. Spend ten minutes disassembling the car seat to haul upstairs; it's a bear to figure out even under optimal conditions, much less when I'm trying my damnedest to not touch half of it. So the car seat cover and the laundry are in the washer now; straps are all washed up. Whee.

So, yeah. Bonus bebe night, just not under the best of conditions. She seems to be doing well now, actually; I hear her and M. having fun finishing up the bebe bath. M. is good with those things, it's terribly cute. Hopefully this was a one-shot event, and coordinating with her mother won't be too much of an issue either. (We're heading to NoVA tomorrow evening, so mom's place could be on the way, more or less.)

Good times, folks. Joys of parenting.

* - This, it turns out, wouldn't have been a great idea anyways. A. called right after we pulled into the apartment complex, so there would have been no bebe bonus time either way.

** - Except nights when she's convinced she doesn't want to take her medicine. Then there's... discussion.