The morning started out pretty good. Uncle D had stayed overnight. He put in some really good quality time with Noah before he headed west for hunting.

Sword fights with Momma's Christmas wrapping paper.
We left school with plenty of time to spare. Our usual 32 mile, 30 minute commute was taking us a bit longer today. At about an hour drive time, I found out the culprit when we finally got to our exit and there was a cop directing traffic and a pretty fancy vehicle stranded in the road. Just as I merged onto the freeway, I turned to check my blind spot when Noah started vomiting. Over and over and over and over. That's four overs if you're keeping count.
OH NO!
Noah does not get sick. I have been fortunate enough that he has remained unscathed by any stomach bug in the four years of his little life.
-- Brief pause while I knock on every piece of wood in my house. --
Ok. I'm back. This is only the third time Noah has ever thrown up, and the culprit is always car sickness. So, I pulled off at the first exit I came to, I pulled into the first parking lot I found, and I formulated my next move.
I'll give you the cliff notes version of the rest of the gory details, but I cleaned him with a half a bottle of water, Emma's quilt and about 5 wipes. Luckily, there was a change of clothes in his school bag. I wrapped his carseat in E's quilt, strapped him into the very back seat of the suburban, carefully drove the six miles to Dean's work, grabbed the back up carseat out of the back of Dean's truck, and finally headed home with Noah feeling back to normal. The whole adventure - two and a half hours.
It is worth noting that Little Em was a rock star! She was up the whole time, but did not say peep.
What a morning!
** Update: "Knock on wood." You are dead to me. It was a stomach bug. And, although my son bounced back from it in about 15 minutes, it knocked me on my butt for 24 hours. I am just now lifting from the fog. Thanks to my super duper wonderful husband who took the day off yesterday, so I could sleep it off.