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Drama Queen candidates
An unmitigated puke fest

Contestant #1
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Table Talk
Is homeschooling a copout?

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Mamafesto
Why it's time
for Mothers Who Think

[ CONTESTANT #2 ]

HONEY, DON'T BE NERVOUS, VOMIT GOES
SO NICELY WITH YOUR SUIT.
By Christina Myers
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When my son turned 1 years old, my husband and I decided it was time to move. We wanted to be closer to our families and to live in a less expensive city where we would be able to afford little things, like food and shelter.

Amazingly, after very little searching, we were both being flown to Nashville, Tenn., to interview for really interesting jobs. We had been given just a few days to get ready, buy appropriate clothes, cram frantically on what we'd need to know, get sitters for our dog and cat and, oh yeah, figure out what to do with our son. We had no choice (nor did I really want one), he was coming with us -- stroller, clothes, diapers, books, toys, 50 binkies and all. No big deal, we thought, we'll stagger our interviews so one of us will always be available. Should be no problem, right? I'll spare you the nightmare of the flight -- the usual 12 hours, including a three-hour layover in Minneapolis, no snacks offered because we were flying at odd times, no milk available because, well, no one seemed to know why, and sitting right next to the engine of a DC-9 holding my baby's head between a pillow and my stomach so he wouldn't go deaf while trying to read the company annual report to have some information to regurgitate during the interview.

Day of the interview: We'd been there two days and had gotten no sleep because my son, Ned, can't sleep in a strange place and his usual nap schedule had not been adhered to. There was no breakfast at the motel and it was located in no man's land, so we went to McDonald's -- eating hash browns and Egg McMuffins in the car on the way to the office. (If this were a crime movie, you'd know the outcome -- never introduce a hash brown at the beginning of the movie unless you're going to use it later.) Ned loved his breakfast, especially when he realized it was also great to throw. He started yelling, "Baw, baw" (ball) just as greasy chunks of hash browns started landing on the back of my husband Hal's neck and going down his shirt. After I wrestled the food out of Ned's hands we assessed the damage; it wasn't ruinous, Hal would have a jacket on so the grease wouldn't even be noticeable. His interview was first so I got in the back seat with Ned who was engrossed in his favorite book, one with buttons that make circus noises, like clowns juggling -- a sound that could easily be used by the defense in a homicide case. He finally tired of that and started crying and banging on the windows to get out so we went for a walk in the (treeless) parking lot.

I was wearing a great fall suit for the interview but unfortunately, fall in the south still means 89 degrees so as I was chasing Ned around the parking lot, I was working up a pretty good sweat. After 20 or 30 laps around the lot and a little brute force, I finally got Ned back in the car where I turned on the air conditioning and bribed Ned with the rest of his hash browns. Ned wasn't really used to greasy food and between that, and the heat, and the lack of sleep, and God knows what else, he threw up -- I mean, really threw up all over the back seat. I was spared this rain of vomit, but had no idea what to do about cleaning it and him up. I couldn't go into the office carrying my filthy baby and ask for paper towels -- the interview books specifically frown on that sort of thing. So I rolled down the windows and gave Ned a bottle and hoped Hal would get out of there soon. He appeared about 40 minutes later and I passed him in the parking lot without even mentioning what awaited him in the car. I was very sweaty, exhausted and harboring the faint odor of vomit and a less-than-enthusiastic desire for a job that would make me go through such hell just to interview. When it was over, we raced to the airport just in time to wait four hours because our flight was canceled.
SALON | Oct. 10, 1997

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