The Christening

Christians, as most of you have likely heard, believe that new children should be baptized in order to welcome them into the Fambily of God. This christening involves some sort of liquid - most commonly water, though sometimes scented oils are used - that the child is either moistened with on the head or is fully immersed into. Methods vary.

Well, I attended such a joyous event yesterday. I had not expected to. You see, the day started out like any other Monday - a horrible awakening a half hour earlier than the rest of the week, drive the kids to their Monday-only school (hence the half hour earlier awakening), go to my job, suffer. But instead of going home, I got to go to the end-of-the-school-year musical and theater performance by The Childrens and their little classmates, the precious little creatures that they are.

As is often the case, the thing started late and was a lot longer than one would normally hope for from a school performance. Since buying the Droid, though, these things have been a lot more tolerable, as I can surf the web at 3G speeds and play games during the whole thing. Excepting that my darling wife, whose love knows no bounds for me and for whom my happiness is her driving force, sent me this touching text just as I pulled into the parking lot:

The Mrs.: "I've saved us two seats right in the front row."

Naturally.

The performances went about as well as one could hope. The audio track drowned out the kindergartners' singing, a blessing in disguise I imagine. There were a couple Destination Imagination skits that we were told involved robotics, but the "robotic technology" in the one our precocious little girl acted in was MaxieC's Thomas the Tank Engine alarm clock in a diaper hanging from the end of a Christmas wrapping paper tube that was taped to the top of a box.

Yeah, we clapped anyways.

After over two hours of this, it gloriously ended with lots of speeches from the director of the school and a couple teachers and the guy who rents the building to them. Then it was snack time. MaxieC loaded up his plate with cookies and brownies and started chowing, HannahC chattered with her giggling little friends, The Mrs. took over the job of Pouring The Drinks So That They Don't Get Spilled, and I stood forlornly in the middle of the room, suffering, occasionally meeting the eye of another poor, suffering father who had to come to this directly from work and hadn't had dinner, and we would give that little nod of acknowledgment and then return to our quiet desperation, all the while wondering how it has come to this.

At some point, I felt something leaning against me, and I looked down to see MaxieC with his look of quiet desperation. I feel for MaxieC, as at least I have the escape of work to get away from the prattling womens. Realizing how I actually came directly from work, and thus I had my truck and The Mrs. had her winivan, I inquired as to whether MaxieC want to, "get the hell out of this place," and I received an affirmative.

So, I went to inform The Mrs. of our escapetude. Of course, The Mrs. responded exactly as you would expect a woman to respond when her husband doesn't want to hang around long past the end of the school program:

Me, CherkyB: "Max and I are going home."

The Mrs.: "I need paper towels. Bring me paper towels."

Me, CherkyB: "The Mrs., I don't have any paper towels."

Then one of the teachers handed her a stack of napkins, so she waved me off. Apparently, taking over the pouring of the drinks does not guarantee a lack of spillage.

Once in the truck, MaxieC started whining about having a headache. Then, he fell asleep. About a mile from the house, he woke up and started complaining about wanting to be home right now.

As we turned onto our street, a mere five houses away form home, I heard what sounded like a drink being spilled in the back.

MaxieC: "Uh, Dah?"

Me, CherkyB: "Yeah?"

MaxieC: "I just threw up."

Me, CherkyB: "Huh?!!!"

MaxieC: "I said I just..." [bleaugh bleaugh bleaugh]

MaxieC: "I threw up again."

Me, CherkyB: "Gaaahh!! Those are perforated leather seats! Try to barf onto the floor cuz I have winter floormats that can hold a lot of liquid."

MaxieC: "OK Da[bleaugh blueah bleagh]"

MaxieC: "I feel a lot better now."

I pulled into the driveway, jumped out, ran around to MaxieC's door, and checked the damage. There, I found MaxieC with barf all down his shirt and pants, the booster seat covered in barf, the perforated leather seats all covered in barf, and barf running down around the edge and dripping onto the Sony 700W amplifier under his seat. Oddly enough, very little barf on the floormat. Oh, my poor new truck.

Welcome to the fambily.

Methods differ.