Back on January 11, 2016, I started this blog and then saved it in my drafts folder. I was actively trying to land a new job and certainly didn’t want to stall my chances via one Google search linking my name and the word Barforama…
So here we are, having landed that job, and gagging up a little Throw-up Throwback:
Ahhh, Christmas Vacation. We all look forward to the break as a relaxing and fun-filled time full of carols and cookies and sleeping-in. Each year I try to capture all of the memories we pack into these two short weeks, though somehow I generally forget how exhausted we are after days and days of criss-crossing California and coming-up with cabin-fever eradicating activities to partake in during days of torrential downpours and the deeply unsettling feeling of “going to the snow” and seeing no snow.
On that note, our annual holiday tradition is to rent a house in Yosemite to enjoy one of the most beautiful snow-filled winter wonderlands around. But due to the drought, the last two years have involved packing-up the car and attempting to enjoy our usually crowd-free national wonder with buses of tourists given how sunny and easy it is to drive a giant luxury tour bus on snow-free roads. Last year we got a little bit of tubing in with the Hampton family, but we were all stripped down to t-shirts it was so hot.
So I declared enough! We are not going next year. And then it dumped inches and inches and that little twerpy niño just yucked it up. The thing is, we probably couldn’t have gone anyway.
The first official day of the break, Jacob woke up in the middle of the night, leaned over the side of the top bunk, and barfed. Everywhere. Fortunately he came and told his dad. Key detail. But then James woke up the whole house with his disgusted mouth breathing as he scrubs and gags his way through the enormous blast zone. Nate was lucky to have been spared in the bottom bunk. A few days later, the same kid wakes-up with a nose bleed and again, proceeds to rain icky bodily fluids down from the top bunk onto everything.
Epic Christmas Vacation.
And now it’s five years later and clearly we’re due for a sick story. At some point we started asking ourselves, has Nate ever thrown up? We got nothin’. Though Nate’s an unreliable source. We’re still not sure he isn’t faking his experience of dreams. But after a lot of research we confirmed he’d never thrown-up. Apparently the kid has a strange tolerance for pain and a stomach of steel.
On Sunday the Raptors played two championship games and walked away with a second place medal and a dramatic soccer story for a separate, dramatic blog. After two games in 95 degree heat, we celebrated at Meadow Park where Nate ingested a piece of pizza, a chocolate cupcake, two bags of Doritos, and some Takis.
Monday morning Nate was gripped with a 24-hour stomach bug, breaking his ten-year no barf record. Taki barforama. Enough said.