The Most Dangerous Poonami Ever - Vacation Days 5.5 - 6

So like I was saying, we were enjoying the last gift Chicago had to offer: evening traffic. Things were going smoothly. Yes, we were in stop and go traffic, but the boys were behaving and even winding down for naps.

I think we were just south of the city when Kevin started asking "what's that smell"? At first I thought it was something from the city; like exhaust or something. We kept sniffing around as the stench got more and more powerful. Finally (and I'm not sure why it took me so long to think of this), I sniffed Josh. Bingo.

Peeeoooou! Well, we figured we could hold out a little, since we weren't really in the best part of town. We continued on, when, in my peripheral vision I noticed Josh playing with something even though he didn't have a toy. I let out a half-strangled cry/laugh/gag: "Omigosh! Josh has had a major diaper blowout and now he's playing in it!!!"

It was now officially a diaper emergency.

It was at this moment that realized just how tired I was. If it weren't for the stench, I would have leaned back and fallen asleep on the spot. Since I didn't have that option I started laughing so hard I had to hold back the tears while I tried to wipe Josh's hands clean. (And of course he was very upset that I was taking away his new, slimy source of entertainment.)

Now, before I continue, let's discuss South Chicago a bit. In a nutshell: North Chicago - good, South Chicago - bad. Bad. BAD. Not Michael Jackson Bad, which is really Cool. But scary bad. Don't walk alone at night bad. Daytime's probably not a good idea either. Bad.

And it's into this neighborhood we were forced to pull into because of Josh's Poonami. My dad stopped at a pretty skanky gas station. Doo rags, heavy gold jewelry, and bottles in paper bags were abundant. I think it's pretty safe to say we were the only white people within a five mile radius. Not only were we white, but were were tourists with two small children and driving a mini van. We stood out like a pickle in a candy jar.

This had to be the most dangerous poonami ever.

I decided against taking Josh into the bathroom (there was no way I was going in there!) and opted to change him on the gas pump island while my dad filled the van. I worked as quickly as I could while Dad chatted to some brotha trying to sell him something and Susie cleaned up the car seat. I could feel the eyes of all the gas station... patrons... on this unusual spectacle! I considered taking a picture for blog's sake, but decided I'd rather not draw more attention to us.

We finally got settled back into the car, only to realize that we had gotten off the freeway at one of the few spots where there wasn't an entrance back on. Wonderful. So we got to drive around more of scenic south Chicago, trying to find another freeway entrance.

At this point we had been in the car for at least 2 hours (probably more - it's all a bit of a haze to me now). So I was not surprised at all when I heard this from the back seat: "Mommy, I need to go potty." Of course you do, Spencer. We're lost in South Chicago and of course you need to go potty. We could actually see the freeway entrance then (we only had to look for 10 minutes), so at this point I had to weigh my options. Which was more dangerous: stopping somewhere to find a bathroom or making a recently potty-trained three year old wait? I decided to tell him to hold it.

(Side note: I forgot to mention in earlier posts about Spencer's Tour de Potty of Chicago. He must have used half the potties in Chicago! Highlights included: the zoo right in the middle of lunch, Giordano's pizza (3x), Navy Pier, Jamba Juice (2x), Millennium Park, and on top of the Sears Tower, to name a few.)

We finally escaped the clutches of Chicago. It was around 8pm by the time we hit Merrillville, and we were starving. So we stopped at Wendy's for a quick bite. By this time I was exhausted, enhanced by Spencer's whining about getting the wrong toy in his kids meal. I finally convinced him that the toy he got was good enough, but that he had to eat one more chicken nugget before he could open it. The child stuffed an entire nugget in his mouth, chewed, tried to swallow, and then promptly threw it up. Followed immediately by "Mommy, my tummy hurts. I need to go potty." Uh-huh. I started laughing because that was better than crying. And when we got to the bathroom and found it in use, I had to laugh again. So tired.

We finally got home that night and threw the kids into bed.

The next morning life was a lot better. We were all tired, but we were home. My family packed up and headed out to the airport just after noon. It's always sad to see family go, but it was nice to have life get back to normal.

Or whatever passes for normal around here. Phew.