The smell was horrendous. And it was dripping everywhere. Chris had a pool forming in his cupped hand, and Lylah was screaming in between each projectile shot. Yes, after a wonderful break away to Portugal, Lylah was sick on a plane.
Bless her though, it was awful for the poor girl. Not to mention her daddy. Or the unfortunate lady in front of him who managed to stick her elbow in the vomit between the seats! We had spent the last twenty minutes or so trying to get Lylah off to sleep. She had napped on the flight over, and fallen asleep on me by the Vilamoura Marina every night of our holiday, so I thought after a bottle of warm Portugese Full Fat (Gordo – get me) and the motion of the plane, she would be out like a light. Full Fat milk and motion – those are the things that did not mix well inside little Lylah’s tum. After nearly half an hour of scraping my legs with her shoes/feet, pulling my hair/necklace/eyelids, and jumping up and down to get a better view of Nonna and Nonna who were sat behind us, it was a welcome relief when Chris said he’d have her on his lap. Mwah ha ha ha. How did I escape that one?! A couple of minutes earlier and it would have been me dripping with sour smelling, apple chunk infused, regurgitated milk.
The initial fountain of sick made me jump 2 seats away out of my near slumber (thank goodness there was an empty seat next to me on the otherwise full Easyjet plane). I shot up, not quite sure what to do next, and then watched as Lylah continued to empty her stomach all over poor Chris. I grabbed some wipes off my mum (mine were handily packed away deep in the case in the overhead locker – FAIL) and started to throw them in Chris’ general direction. Realising that this was doing very little good, I grabbed about 3000 paper tissues from the lavatory, and started to mop up the mess. Lylah was screaming through all of this let me add. Oh and people were staring, and looking in the other direction all at the same time. The girl sat in the next seat over, who had chirped about how “cute” Lylah was just 30 minutes earlier, was now hiding behind her magazine and earphones; no comments now!
I shouted for the air stewardess who came to the rescue, and gave me a massive tub of blue wipes – which were like all my dreams come true. They were big, and smelled like cleaning stuff, and at least helped me block the pungent odour out. I heaved a couple of times whilst mopping the chunks, but I got through it. Lylah and Chris had to be stripped off, and while Lylah sat with mum and dad, Chris had his moment of glory and did a strip tease at the back of the plane (no doubt showing off his tan – he was secretly delighted!). I in the meantime am on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor. Just imagine this scenario if you please. It hurts my head to think about it too much.
The main thing is Lylah is fine. She quickly recovered and when everything was cleaned up, and we only fractionally smelt of puke, we settled down and tried to get her off to sleep again.
Within minutes she was down again, on the floor of the aisle (thank goodness we were right at the back), and proceeded to squat right down on her hind legs. You can guess what she was doing now. In a 2-hour plane journey, Lylah managed to empty her entire body of that day’s food contents. She squatted until she was finished, at which point we made a trip into the cramped up cubicle to get her cleaned up.
She finally fell asleep on daddy once she was content and comfortable, and we all managed to get a bit of shut eye.
We had an amazing holiday, details of which will come in a separate post, but needless to say this was the highlight.
Sorry if you were eating your dinner.