Okay, I promised the puke story so here it is:
And it isn't really much of a story it just seems like it should be. You know, when you feed your children fast food and junk all weekend and stir in a very long car trip, you should expect a little puke. So we fed Frodo Sun chips and gummy bears beginning at 9:30 Sunday morning. Shocker he spewed around 3. I think it was the Frosty that put him over the top...but Hubs and I wanted one and didn't think we should deny the poor children trapped in the car seats.
Anyway, not half an hour into the winding back roads of Arkansas is when we hear it. He even warned us and we missed the signs. My bad.
The story begins here: After "we" finished with the clean-up, Hubs pointed out that we were on Damascus road. Doesn't it seem like there should be a story there? Some heartwarming faith lesson for a magazine? So the rest of the evening I watched signs and listened to conversations trying to find the faith story that I could title "On the Damascus Road."
Here is what I came up with:
I cleaned up puke on the Damascus Road. We considered visiting Devil's Den but alas it was too late. Same sad story with Pig Trail Harley Davidson. And I would have been so proud to wear the shirt. As we skidded past Suits Us Street I dissolved into a fit of giggles. Suits Me.
Bummer, I don't think that Guideposts will be buying.