In honor of St. Patrick’s Day 2017, let me tell you about our own encounter with…The Luck O’ the Irish.

We recently took a trip to Ireland. On Aer Lingus.  And sat behind literal Irish twins who were about a year old.  We had those four seats in the middle of the plane, with Sonny and Sissy in the middle of the middle and an extra gap between them caused by the doubled up arm rests.

The reason this gap is important will be revealed in a sec.  Hang on to yer everlovin’ hats!

About an hour into the flight, the twins are peeking back at Sissy and Sonny.  So cute.  Playing peek-a-boo.  Rosy cheeked and dimpled.  Golden curls.  When ALLOFASUDDEN!!!  Vomit comes shooting out of the extra wide gap in the seat in front of us.

Gaah!  Gaaaaaaah!!!!  GAAAAAAAH!!!!

It was like that Saturday Night Live skit where someone has a hose in their sleeve and holds it strategically beside their mouth. Stuff was coming out of one of those little Irish pieholes in such quantities it was not humanly possible.

And Sissy and Sonny, leaning in to the adorable game of peek a boo (one for me! one for you!!), get totally sprayed. Until it was ALL over them AND their backpacks (filled with snacks, games and even winter coats) which they had dutifully placed underneath the seats in front of them like good Aer Lingus citizens.

I almost started vomiting my own self it was so awful – and that was only hour one, ONE, of a SEVEN HOUR flight. Guh.  Guh.

B’gosh and begorrah, my friends! That is what’s known as the Luck O’ the Irish.  Except they spelled ‘luck’ wrong.  It should’ve been spelled p-u-k-e instead.  The Puke O’ The Irish.

Yep. That’s about right.

Sláinte!

P.S. Happy Birthday, Mom! We called twice.  You must’ve either been on the computer…or in bed.  Hope it was a great day.  Love you.