One of the things I forgot to post about while we were on vacation

Golf/Japanese restaurant

On Wednesday Greg, Kendal (his brother), & Kyle (their uncle) played 18 holes at ChiChi Rodriguez's golf course. I went to the house with Brock so we could swim, play, etc. Brock was cutting teeth and was an extreme crank-tank the entire day. I finally got him to take a nap in the late afternoon and I did a little blogging.

That evening when Greg got back we decided that we were going to eat at one of our favorite restaurants, Arigato Japanese steak house. The last time we were there it was delicious food and so much fun! They cook the food on a big grill at the table and there are lots of flames involved, etc. Brock was in a better mood so we thought we would give it a try. We walked into the restaurant & gave the hostess our name. "5-10 minutes" she said cheerfully as she handed us our pager.

We turned around to look at a fish tank and Brock reached for me to hold him. I did. See, right here was the problem. I should have let Greg keep him because no sooner did I take hold of my precious baby boy, he projectile vomited all over me. I am not kidding when I say all over me. I had vomit down my shirt (and not only down my shirt but in my bra), all over my shorts, my arms & legs, in my shoes, and of course all over the carpet at the restaurant. Think it can't possibly get any worse? Hold on.

Meanwhile, the hostess witnesses this entire nightmare unfold and continues to stare blankly at me. When I finally compose myself enough to say (with vomit in my hand) "Um, can we get a few towels?", she casually responds with, "Um, sure. I'll see what I can get." Hmmmm? Lady, I am COVERED in vomit. Getting towels is not a possibility, it is what is going to happen or I am using your kimono to clean this disaster up! Finally she comes back with wet washcloths and we get the mess mostly cleaned up and we mutter "I'm sorry" and we shamefully slink out of the restaurant smelling like partially digested milk.

Once we get out to the car, Greg says to me, "I love you but you smell so bad I am about to puke." Nice. At this point, I am nearly in tears about the entire situation and all my loving and supportive husband has to tell me is that my smell wants to make him vomit. ::takes a deep breath::

The next night we tempted fate again and walked through the doors of Arigato. That time we walked away unscathed and full of delicious food. Thank God.