A Clark Griswald-esque vacation story

[clayman]

Not for the faint of stomach......

____________________

Bodily Waste : A Boston Family Vacation

or,

Biohazard, Beantown, or Bust

by clayman


Having vacationed with wife and kids at a beach the last ten consecutive years, it was determined (in non-democratic fashion : wife vetoing all clayman and clayboys’ votes) that the clayman family would use its valuable 2003 vacation time in Boston.

The trip started spectacularly. Connecting through Memphis, clayboy #2 awoke from a sound sleep, and looked confusingly at me, said, “Huh?” and then promptly glurted out about a pound and a half of bile, covering himself, the car seat, and throwing a yellowish diagonal swath across the front of my white polo. The stewardess was helpless as it seemed to spread with each use of a wet towel. We landed, and exited hastily in search of the nearest bathroom. Of course, I had no change of clothes; only for the boys. I ducked into a gift shop and picked up the first Memphis t-shirt that looked like it remotely matched. At the checkout, people alternately gaped in amazement at my shirt decoration (a semi-digested mixture of wieners, macaroni and cheese and Gatorade) or turned away in disgust. I carefully paid the clerk to avoid dripping anything on her, hurried into the restroom and stripped. This caused a minor evacuation of the men’s room, and I even still had my underwear on. After tossing the shirt in the garbage, I sponged off and dressed. I still stank mightily. Clayboy #2 was taken in, stripped and cleaned as well and new outfit put on. A search for Dramamine was unsuccessful. Dramamine….airports….flying…..heeellllooo ? Who would have thunk that Dramamine was in short supply in an airport. Only a mad dash between concourses unfortunately kept us on our collision course with Boston.

On the Memphis to Boston leg, the fun continued. Vomitus extremus round 2 occurred as we were touching down in Boston, deftly caught by clayman in the wrinkled long-unused puke bag. But wait; it only gets better. The puke machine cranked up again as we drove the rental van toward our hotel on the outskirts of Boston. This time, clayboy #1 was the primary beneficiary, as another yack attack covered him, the car seat (again) the floorboards, and clayboy #2 (again). A thorough cleaning of all parties occurred upon arrival at our destination. Too tired/smelly to go out, we ended the day with fast food, sitting in our underwear crosslegged in the floor of our room. Thus ended Day 1.

Days 2 and 3 are in a bit of a fog, as it rained enough to convince me to start finding beaverwood and a tall mountain. Not a dry thread among us, despite, slickers, umbrellas, trash bags with holes torn in them, etc. We walked, rode subways, waited for subways, waited for shuttles, became lost, and returned to the room after day 3 with blisters, no dry clothes to be had, and a generally depressed and negative opinion of Boston so far.

Giving up on a real meal anytime this week, we drove through Burger King to get a 10:00 supper and promptly were ran into in front of the hotel by a (I think now typical) Boston driver who felt that driving in the breakdown lane at 50 mph in a 30 mph zone while illegally passing on the right was an OK thing. We moved the cars into the hotel lot and called the police. 30 minutes later, an enraged bullet-headed member of Boston’s finest cursed at both of us for “moovin’ da goddam caaahs”. I tried the "I was just a tourist and didn’t know” routine, with zero sympathy in return. “I don’t care where ya from, ya don’t evah move the goddam caaaahs.” Returning to the room at 11:15, my coagulated Chicken Parmesan sandwich didn’t look appetizing. Thus ended day 3.

Day 4 was uneventful, but lovely. A trip south by car to Newport, Rhode Island opened our eyes to one of the prettiest cities on God’s green earth. Will return there again, without kids and other vacation enjoyment inhibitors.

Day 5 was a drive north through New Hampshire and Maine, which was nearly as pretty. My vote for prettiest city up that way is charming Ogunquit, ME. On the way back, my wife declared a need to satisfy a shopping fix, so we stopped at a mall in Kittery, ME. While she went off to shop, the claymen went to find a bathroom. (Another biohazard warning bell now sounds with the readers.) clayboy #2 annouced a need to “poop” and asked me to join him in the stall. Having him been potty trained for over a year, I felt no need to really observe, so I leaned against the wall and talked to both boys while they did what they needed to do. With a triumphant, “I’m done!”, clayboy #2 slid off the rim and stood up. I glanced down and thought I was seeing an optical illusion. He had not pulled his underwear down all the way, so had succeeded in only crapping right back in his underwear. When he slid off, he very efficiently had smudged the whole mess up his back, on his shorts, squeegeed it into his crotch, shirt, the rim, the floor, everywhere. This bathroom was equipped only with a hand dryer instead paper towels, so my cleanup effort was poor and consisted of two and half rolls of toilet paper moistened from the sink, while 15 onlookers filed in and out in the process. I threw the underwear away (disposible clothing act #2), pulled his wet shorts up, and marched both boys back to the van, one of them uncomfortably grabbing and pulling at the unfamiliar commando-style feeling in his behind. At the van I stripped him, and, while he waved happily naked at everyone who passed, dressed him as quickly as possible. My wife walked up in the middle of this procedure and asked, “What happened?”, I only said, “Don’t ask.”

Day 6 meant homeward bound, and we were ready. Having used a laudromat in a questionable section of town twice to wash our stinky, sh1ttty, wet clothes, we were ready for the flight. Armed with children’s Dramamine, Benadryl, and anything else remotely legal to intoxicate and incapacitate a child, we boarded the flight to Knoxville, by way of Memphis. Halfway to Memphis, clayboy #1 (up to this point only a cameo appearance in the story) woke suddenly from a sound sleep, looked at me strangely and got up. I asked if he was Ok and he nodded sheepishly. He whispered in my wife’s ear, then moved toward the bathroom kiosk in the rear. (Biohazard warning bell again.) My wife got up and followed him. I watched and saw him go in, the door open, her lean in, frantic gesticulation from both parties, door closes, line gets longer for the bathroom, door opens, clayboy #1 returns, head down. After exchanging whispers, sign language, and that non-verbal communication that long-marrieds share, I determined that he had produced a massive Hershey squirt in his sleep. This prompted a trip aft, and a hurried attempt to clean up, followed by another pair of underwear discarded (disposable clothing act #3).

Arriving at midnight, everyone gratefully went separate directions as we had been cooped up together for 6 days. When I emerged from the shower at 1:00, seeing everyone gathering in the family room to cool down before bed, I announced to the room that I had massively dumped in my own drawers, and out of sympathy for everyone else, thrown the shorts in the garbage for someone else to take out. This prompted gales of laughter from everyone to help us put this frightful week in some sort of domestic perspective.

Next year, I vote for Myrtle Beach, and diapers for everyone.

[Gumdrop]

Now this is what I like to read!

I mentioned at the end of my last "new thread" that I got the distinct fealing my posts were getting longer, yet the nourishment that can be had from my offerings is meager at most. Was never anything more now I come to think of it. But h3ll - this is what we need in the burrick; long posts describing trivial stuff/ that can quickly become great reads for everyone else!

A tipple of frog for Clay' just becouse he took the time to ramble. My you all follow suit!

I for one, would be very interested in what Blackie has to say about his recent busking excursion.

Well done Clayman. A good read!

[bravus]

Hehe - thanks so much for sharing that, clayman!

I'm a parent, so I have a pretty high tolerance level for that stuff, but with the kids 12 and 9 now I'm losing that 'up the the elbows and still whistling' skill set.

Bravus

PS We're off to Banff for the weekend: hopefully it'll work out a little better, but if not, the story will be here first.

[Huntress]

Oh my good lord Clayman...that had me roaring and tears of laughter as well as sadness had me shaking my head at the pureness of a shattered vacation

Trip on Airplane to Boston....$2500. +?

Car Incident with Bostonian/Police...$the caaar from rental will never be the same or the experince.

Trip with family/numerous toilet visits/stinky clothes/and the return home....PRICELESS

Thanks for the well written adventure about how not to take small children without the proper preparations first...in case of an emergency!!! LOL Bet you won't do that again huh? Thank goodness nothing like that ever happened to me but I can't say the same for what I did once upon a time with my Grandparents.

My Grandparents took care of me for several years as a young child and they like to take drives from time to time. My Grandfather had decided one day to drive up into the mountains..don't know where now of course, but the road was very twisty and these were old roads then too. I was sitting in the back seat as usual and after awhile I'm afraid the road and turns and sitting in the back got the better of me and the car! Yup...I did it just like your kids. Poor Grandma and Grandpa and their nice car. So from then on I sat in the front seat and never happened again. Grandpa used to let me lean over him later on when I got a bit older and would let me steer the car. Grandma wasn't too thrilled about that either but nothing happened Sure was a thrill for me though. LOL

Can't say that about another time driving a type of vehicle on a farm. Family had some relatives that had a small farm and a tractor. The man who had it...says let her take it around a bit, it'll be OK. Well I was out in a field and driving along when I came to a corner and had to turn...yea you guessed it. Didn't quite make the turn and ended up into the wire fence. That was my first and last time driving a tractor..heh! It was fun for awhile though

OK, that's my little stories for ya all. Now who's turn is it?

Ta and Good Hunting!

[Caradavin1]

Oh my goodness! You poor man, lol.

Thanks for sharing that, it seems you have a wonderful sense of humor and that is great

[bravus]

Huntress wrote:

Grandpa used to let me lean over him later on when I got a bit older and would let me steer the car.

You mean he'd let you take the tiller?



Bravus (grinning, ducking and running very, very fast)

[Huntress]

You'd better run fast smarty!!! LOL Very funny magee! No, not quite that old or the vehicle...seem to remember is was a chevy of some kind though? Late 30's early 40 model maybe? Think I have a picture of it somewhere that was taken outside their house/driveway. But who knows where it is and can't post it anyway so can't show ya. Old cars are neat though and too bad we didn't have one like the one you show...and still would have it.

I could live my retirement in pure luxury...ha ha! Ta and Good Hunting!

[Ruthless]

ROTFLMAO!!!!!
I laughed so hard I had to take a break from reading so I wouldn't wind up like the clayboys! Aren't kids wonderful? Where else could we get such great stories to share with our friends? I have a few stories myself but none to match this one, and so well written too.
Just think clayman, you will NEVER forget this vacation! (no matter how hard you try)
Thanks for sharing!!

[BrokenArts]

ohhh the events that *spew* forth for Clayman and his family. Such memorable moments, indeedy

[Peter Smith]

Clayman,

That was a pretty disgusting story. Reading about it made me want to barf.

I hope you have a better vacation next time. Sorry this message is so short. I have to go eat dinner now. I hope I can keep it down.