Going Home… Or Not

First, I’d like to wish a very happy 77th birthday to my dad, even though he doesn’t read my blog.

Just one of the many fun things one sees at DFW.

Just one of the many fun things one sees at DFW.

Now then…  Today, my sister and her daughter were due to return home to the Fatherland.  To celebrate with them, we headed to the Fort Worth Stockyards.  We did the typical tourist thing.  Then again, what else does one do at the Stockyards.  It’s not like we were planning on buying heads of cattle.  We ate lunch at a place — I won’t mention the name — that serves burgers and BBQ.  The food was good.  My daughter had a little side dish of macaroni and cheese.  We took pictures with the longhorns.  My sister and my son found their way through a wooden maze.  Great fun was had by all.  Sadly, the fun had to come to an end and we headed off to DFW to drop them off for their flight.  I walked them in and said good bye.

On the ride home I remarked to my wife that I always feel very sad whenever guests go home, especially if the guests are family.

And then my phone rang.  It was my sister.  Her daughter had forgotten her phone.  It’s funny, I almost used the phrase “cell phone” there and then I realized it really doesn’t matter at this point.  Would anyone have thought she left a trimline?  I took my own daughter, who had fallen asleep on the first trip to the airport and had felt sad at not saying good bye, and we drove back out to drop off a phone.  It’s a good thing we only live ten minutes from the terminals.  Again we said our good byes and I headed home.

And then my phone rang again.  It turns out that my dear sister was getting the boot from American Airlines.  The flight was oversold.  Vouchers in hand (another trip to see us?!) she and her daughter waited at the curb just a few moments until I was once again at the terminal, elated to be hosting them for one more night!  Did I mention that Maureen is a nurse?  Huh?  Where did that come from?  I’m thinking ahead.  Sorry.  Maureen made a lovely gesture as she asked if anyone was hungry and whether we’d like dinner on her.  As we pulled away from the terminal my little girl piped up from the back seat “Daddy, my tummy hurts.”  “You’re fine, sweetheart,” I said.  I thought she was just whining about wanting something from Chick-fil-a after hearing my sister’s offer.

Ride 'em, Campbell!

Ride ’em, Campbell!

We walked in the door and set down their bags.  Headed to the kitchen with our food.  My baby girl looked up at me.  “Daddy…”  “What’s the matter, sweetie?”  I could tell something wasn’t right.  “Do you not feel well?”  I picked her up so that her head was right next to mine.  Do you see where this is going?  She nodded her head.  “Are you going to –”  throw up…  All over me.

So let’s look back over some clues I dropped in this story and piece it together.  Really, it’s just two things.  1) My daughter most likely had food poisoning from lunch.  2) My sister coming back to our house for the night was a blessing because she was able to assist in taking care of our little sick girl when she threw up and the next four times she threw up.  She cleaned sheets, laid down with the little one, basically just offered great comfort while my wife and I focused on packing up.  Oh, did I mention that we’re moving?


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