Faulty seat belts and cowboy boots

cowboy bootsYou may have noticed my recent absence.  Apologies.  I was preoccupied with two 13-hour drives (complete with husband, twins, and the dog), family, bowling, boot buying, dog poo clean-up, Dairy Queen treats, and work.

The first car trip wasn’t nearly as bad as the one coming back, minus Mommy’s FAIL.  We stopped to feed the kids, Pete went to free James from his car seat, and noticed that only the top of his seatbelt was fastened and he had started to slip down in his seat.  What the h-e-double hockey sticks?!  During the previous stop, Mommy got a little side-tracked with feeding-related discussion and simply forgot to finish the job.  I thank my lucky stars that Pete was “on his game” behind the wheel.

Baby-brain moment aside, we had a terrific time introducing the twins to my home town (between the swarm of Grandmothers at the local cafe and all my relatives, I think we almost had it covered).  Upon our return, however, it was quite clear to me that my kids are now broken; stuffy noses, constant whining, and they’ve been extremely finicky eaters.  Grandma and Grandpa… they’re on their way back.  You break it, you buy it!

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