Vomit AND Superheroes. No lie.

I've been up since just before 6 am. It's a Saturday and I can't even believe I wasn't able to sleep longer than that. On the upside, that whole insomnia thing seems to have worked itself out.

Went out on the town last night. Found this spectacularly awesome dive bar. This place was the bomb - cheap beer, smoke filled, pool table with crooked cues, bad karaoke and bikers. BIKERS, Y'ALL. I mean, really? It. Was. Awesome. I fully intend to return. Probably tonight. Fair warning has been given.

OK...I've bored myself so I'll move on.

Last weekend was Drew's birthday extravaganza. The best part of the entire night was witnessing the epic reflexes of my friend Carrie. Let's set the stage, shall we?

Open on a hotel room. Several adults are debating movies and drinking Captain Morgan's Tattoo with Dr. Pepper. (I had to throw that in because it rules.) In the adjoining room four 8 - 10 year olds have been shoveling pizza, root beer and birthday cake down their throats in a disgusting display of little boy gluttony while staging an epic battle between the Jedi and the bad guys from Gears of War (don't question these things - just roll with it).

Drew enters hotel room not currently under attack.

Drew: Mom, I don't feel good.

Me: What's the matter, Bug?

Drew: (crawls up into my lap) I don't know. I just don't feel good.

Me: OK. What hurts? --- (speaking to room) He feels really, really hot.

Drew: Well, I think it's my stom.......

At this point, Carrie (who is clearly some sort of superhero in hiding who possesses freakishly fast reflexes) LEAPS from the bed, runs a wide arc around the room, grabs a trash can and shoves it under Drew's chin. Everyone else in the room is sitting stone still, mouths open, still furiously trying to process what the hell is going on.

Drew:.......ach....BLAARRRRGGGGGG........

The kid literally projectile vomits into the trash can Carrie has produced. (Seriously, y'all...it's like she's some kind of freakin' wizard.)

Entire room: WWOOOAAHHHHH!!!

Eric: Holy shit, Carrie! How did you do that?

Chris: (shakes head) She came out of nowhere. I was still trying to process what Drew was saying and she was just...THERE...I mean...holy hell. I need a drink.

Dave: I'm impressed. A little queasy, but impressed.

Julie: Ummm...there are no words. None.

Kelly: She just saved me from getting puked on. Twice. Once from Drew. Once from Dave.

Me: Would someone please, please, please, for the love of all that is holy get this can out from under my nose....

Drew: Hey! I feel better! Can I go play now? Can I have a Root beer? And some cake?

And...scene.

Here are pics: