Tummy Ache

Wouldn't any decent parent tell his sick child something like, "I would do anything for you to feel better right now?"

Be careful what you say, my friends. On the weekend before Christmas, our cute little family went for a hot chocolate, dinner, and then to City Park in New Orleans to see the lights.

Drinking hot chocolate

By the way, the hot chocolate that they serve in the lobby of The Roosevelt is the best I ever had. It's so think and creamy and chocolaty. I promise that when I win the Powerball, I'm going to have them fill a bathtub with it and then go there for a soak.

Dinner at Mondo was good, but the restaurant was blazing hot. It struck us as unusual that Kolya wasn't eating.

By the time we got to the park, Kolya was clearly sick. "Do you want to go night-night, or do you want to go see the lights?" we asked.

"Lights." He pointed the way into the display.

We walked for a while, at a quicker pace than we usually would. On our way out, we stopped to linger at the electric trains. (Everyone with little boys should take them to see the trains in Ciy Park if they haven't already.)

We were about to turn for the car, when K puked all over me. It was semi-digested hot chocolate.

I don't think I meant it so literally when I said I would do anything for him to feel better.

That left me without a wearable jacket over the remainder of a cold weekend.