A Handful of Vomit & Pork Belly

I don’t make plans. See here if you don’t believe me or understand why.

I have children. Children derail anything and everything.

Got that?

A trip to Grand Rapids was necessary today. A long trip. Going to Grand Rapids is not something I do lightly, as I hate all of the traffic. The people are a mixed bag, but I can deal with the crowds. The traffic though, hate it. On top of my list for the long trip, find pork belly.

Despite living around several farms, I cannot for the life of me find pork belly. Lots of people who swear they sell pork belly, but to date nope. Thus I have to travel to Grand Rapids to the Downtown Market. I like the Market, a reasonable butcher and fish monger. Good cheese shop and other goodies. Problem for me is that the Market is not really a market, but what people with too little knowledge, too much time and money think is a market. Everything is too packaged and too clean to be a real market, more like a different kind of grocery store. But they have pork belly.

Then the child vomited. All of a sudden. No warning signs at all. Standing near the meat counter…BARF. Being a parent, I do the following:

  • try to comfort my child which is where the screen of my “military grade” phone cracked
  • try to contain the mess, which is how I ended up with a handful of vomit
  • try to, and I shit you not, get ANYONE from behind the counter to do something more than ask, “Can I help you with something in our display?” No shit. Tried to sell me meat while my kid is puking.

To many perfect people and families walk by with that look of “oh my look at those poor (not poor as in sympathetic, but poor as in not dressed like us, people.” Finally, an adult behind the counter sees the problem and assists, but by then the kid was off to a bathroom and I cleaned up the mess. Fuckers!

But I got pork belly.

A trip to the nearest pharmacy for some stomach meds hoping that it takes care of the problem and we are off to the next stop, Rider’s Hobby Shop. Way to much money and one almost vomit incident later we, the adults, debate the merits of returning home or heading to Momma Lee’s. Consulting with the child, go to Mama Lee’s because I need ingredients to cook a lot of stuff. In case you are curious why we didn’t go home after pork belly, the sick child had been looking forward all week to Rider’s and would not be deterred…not even by a second almost vomit.

Momma Lee’s, like clock work. Let’s put food in all of us. What happened next is not a testament to Denny’s…the car stopped, the child bolted, the parents said wait, the child exploded all over the empty parking lot.

Now we head home. Something I haven’t mentioned is that we need rain. Very dry around here. Want to guess when it rained?

If you guessed when the kid had to vomit, we pull off the road, I join him outside the car, and then the sky opens up. Soaked and feeling miserable, the child fell asleep less than a mile later. The rain stopped a half-mile after that.

At home the child feels better, which really is the important part of the whole story.

 

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