WARNING: Part of this post is gross. Like, really gross. But you know what? That’s what being a parent is all about. Sometimes you have to deal with gross stuff. Really gross stuff. So read on at your own peril.

After our pretty ordinary Saturday, we woke up early Sunday determined to have a better day. The weather report was for one of those late winter days that’s more like mid-spring. The kind where if you go out for a walk you only need a t-shirt, not a t-shirt, sweater, coat and scarf. So Bubba and I set out to visit my sister who lives about a 30 minute drive away. She lives in a lovely beach side suburb, so a walk around the water in the sunshine sounded like a great start to the day to me.

Bubba was a little quiet in the car on the way over. I thought she may have still been tired and kept expecting her to have a nap, but every time I snuck a look in the rear view mirror at her she was still awake, just really still and quiet.

Until we were five minutes from my sister’s house. Then she made this guttural noise followed by an enormous splash. The smell was enough for me to know that she had just vomited and I didn’t really need to turn around to see how much. What I did need to do was talk to her calmly because she started to get really upset.

And I needed all four windows down and the air con blowing strong cold air at me.

And I needed not to sympathy vomit. Seriously, we’re like that in our family. Not good.

I called my sister and asked her to meet me outside her apartment with a wet towel and a dry towel. Then, as we were about to turn into my sister’s street, it happened again. By this time I was holding my hand over my face, trying not to vomit, trying to focus on driving, and trying to calm Bubba.

I’m going to say at this point if there was a person on planet earth less able to deal with this particular crisis than me, it’s my sister. I do not do vomit. She DOES NOT do vomit. Awesome, this was bound to be fun.

I won’t go into the gory details (what, you thought I already had?) but suffice to say I stripped Bubba down to her nappy in the street – lucky it was a warm day – wrapped her in a blanket and handed her to my sister to take inside and bath while I dealt with the car. Mind you, I had to wait for my sister to stop dry reaching, and I did have to stop every so often to do the same myself. Anyone driving past would have thought we were a couple of girls who were suffering the after effects of way too big a night out the night before and trying to deal with hangovers. If it wasn’t so revolting for the pair of us, it may have been humorous.

Lucky for Bubba, her aunty has been stock-piling clothes for years to come, so by the time I did what I had to do, then left the car with all windows down a little and went inside, Love Bug was wearing next winter’s dinosaur pyjama bottoms and a cute sweater, playing with the tool kit my sister bought her.

She wasn’t sick for the rest of the day, so I think – as she comes from a long line of girls who suffer terrible travel sickness – that I may have put her in the car too soon after her breakfast. Bubba, if you have inherited that horrible affliction, we’re sorry!

After refuelling, the three of us went for a very nice long walk and chat in the warm spring-like sunshine.

What a lovely way to spend a Sunday.