pit stop

The last Sunday of every June, Ty’s family has a reunion and picnic. It’s a summer tradition held at Les and Wendee’s home, complete with noodles made from an old family recipe. Every year we look forward to taking walks through the gardens, getting inspired by Wendee’s artwork, seeing the fish in the pond, and playing games outside.

We hadn’t driven too far from home when we heard the sound of Zuzu in the back seat devouring her hands. Wanting to prevent a total meltdown, we pulled off in a parking lot to give Zuzu a good feeding before continuing the trip. This was a perfect idea so the drive could be free of crying, and I got Zuzu’s belly all filled up until it was so full she had to make a contribution to her diaper. Those darn diapers certainly don’t have an “explosion-free protection” guarantee on the label for a reason. And why we dressed her in an all-white cotton sundress and bloomers I have no idea, because it wasn’t a smart one. Yes, there’s nothing like trying to change a squirming baby in a parked car on one’s lap when everything (including part of my lap) is covered in you-know-what. Of course we discovered her diaper bag to be out of plastic baggies, so while I tried to prevent the mess from spreading, Ty rummaged around in the trunk until he found a 40-gallon garbage bag which, in retrospect, seems quite fitting of the degree of messiness that was initially found on mother and baby.

We never did make it to the picnic and I think we’ll be eating chilled tomato and mozzarella salad for the next four nights. Oh well, at least once we got the worst of it cleaned up Zuzu seemed pretty content, as the picture above shows.