The smokin hot red sundress

Today's guest post comes to you from Koby at Not All Who Wander Are Lost. I don't really even know what to say to introduce her post because her worst travel experience really is that bad. So without further ado...here it is:

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Daddio and I had been dating for a couple of years and had never EVER been separated when his sister asked if he would be willing to transport (by car) all of her belongings from Michigan to California.

 

His sister and her husband and their two small children were relocating.

 

Her husband had gone ahead and found an apartment and now he wanted his family to join him.

 

She’d rent a truck, pack up all the stuff, and he would simply drive the crap 1,981 miles to her new home.

 

He jumped on the offer, then recruited a good friend to go along for the drive.

 

In the mean time his sister went to work on me.

 

“Would you be willing to help me get the kids to California?” she asked.

 

I heard…..“WANT TO GO TO HOLLYWOOD???”

 

I too jumped at the offer.

 

I mean, seriously how hard could it be to help with two little darlings, (a son 2 ½ and a daughter 11 months) on a couple of hour plane ride??

 

Daddio and I would be separated for three weeks total…three weeks is an eternity when you are young and in love.

 

I knew Daddio would miss me while we were apart….and my plan was to knock his socks off when he saw me again after being apart three WHOLE weeks.

 

In my minds eye I pictured myself coming down the walkway looking like a supermodel.

 

I wanted that man to W…A..N…T.... me….!!!

 

I commissioned my cousin to make me a summer dress. I wanted to wear something that Daddio had never seen.

 

I choose a beautiful stunning red and white material and a pattern that screamed… H…O…T….

 

It was low cut and fitted.

 

Daddio’s sister and I prepared for the five hour flight with the children.

 

(Can you ever really prepare for a five hour flight with children??)

 

We packed toys, and food and candy and gum.

 

And we would have packed liquor, except they were both underage.

 

(In hindsight, we should have packed some for ourselves).

 

Daddio’s sister had her hands full with her energetic toddler and I was incredibly glad that when she asked “which one do you want?”  I wisely chose her sweet baby daughter.

 

I felt lucky to be holding the sleeping angel while she ran up and down the skinny aisle chasing her tiny mobile tot.

 

She did damage control when the kid hit people with his toy car.

 

And when he threw his food.

 

And when he began to scream and all the people turned around in their seats to look at us, lucky me had a baby to hide behind.

 

The baby woke up about half way to California.

 

Her brother’s screams woke everybody up …

 

She woke up hungry and congested.

 

Her nose was a gooey, green mess.

 

I worked on cleaning her up and dug in my bag to find something for her to eat.

 

Normally an easy going baby who would eat anything and everything placed within reaching distance, today she wanted nothing to do with anything except drinks and Melba Toast.

 

Crumbly, crunchy, brown Melba Toast .

 

I'm pretty sure (since I've become a mother myself) that the kid was in the trenches of teething.

 

She munched and crunched her Melba Toast…and was pretty content as long as I handed her chunk after chunk.

 

Keeping her nose clean and her attitude in check was a full time job on that flight.

 

About an hour before we got to California I began to get a little overheated.

 

I was so warm, I was beginning to feel a bit wet.

 

As we got closer to our destination I realized I was soaked.

 

It never dawned on me that the baby could be peeing through her diaper.

 

We’d changed her diaper once, but the quarters were sooooo tight that we didn't attempt to do it again.

 

I should have figured that those economy diapers wouldn't hold 6 bottles worth of pee.

 

The E…N…T…I…R…E… front of my dress, my S…E…X..Y, H…O…T  red sundress was covered in baby pee.

 

When we stood up to deplane, I realized that it had soaked through to the back as well.

 

I noticed too that the cotton material of the sundress was bunched up like an accordion in the front…

 

Some of the  pee had dried and caused the material to reshape…. I tried to smooth it out, but the cotton wasn't budging.

 

So my sundress was about 6 inches shorter in the front.

 

My hair was a sweaty mess.

 

My mascara had run.

 

And stuffed deep into the cleavage created by my S..M…O…K…I…N…. H..O…T…, S…E…X…Y… tight fitting new red sundress was a hunk of soggy Melba Toast which Daddio plucked out saying….“Man, you look like hell.”