That's right. Liquor stores.

Kari, Braden and I had a really nice vacation. We spent a week with each of our families and had a great time of sharing, giving, playing and loving. Our families and friends are some of the most wonderful people in the world to hang out with. The trip was not without incident, of course.

After we had been at my parents' house in Kentucky for about four days, it became evident that Braden was getting sick. It seemed like a little cold with a cough, so we gave him some PediaCare and didn't worry too much about it. On New Year's Eve during the day, though, it was clear that something wasn't quite right, so we called my parents' family doctor, who told us we needed to take him to the emergency room. So we had our first ER experience with our little guy on Saturday night. We were there for four and a half hours. Braden has an ear infection and a cold, and he had to get two shots and two prescriptions, an antibiotic and a cough suppressant.

Well, for those of you with kids, you know what an antibiotic will do. And for those who don't know, I'll spare the gross details, but let's just say things become a little...um...runny. More on that later.

Monday morning we left Russell to start the long trip back to Kansas City. My mom called my cell phone after we had been gone about a half hour to tell us that we left our coats behind. Kansas City in January is not a good place to be without a coat. So, Mom met us halfway and brought our three coats and Kari's scarf, and we were back on the road.

After we came through Louisville about three hours later, Kari hopped in the back of the minivan to get Braden out of his car seat and change his diaper. When she pulled his pants down, the runniness effects had kicked in, and suddenly she and Braden were covered with...well...use your imagination. Kari proclaims, "Oh my word," from the back seat (those of you who know her can hear her say it now) followed by a few cries. I look back long enough to see what has happened, and then I ask her is she's laughing or crying. She tells me she's laughing, so I rest a little easier and start looking for an exit.

So we're driving along between downtown Louisville and the Indiana border, and there is no exit for 10 miles. TEN MILES! I'm not exaggerating at all. Ten miles of Kari holding Braden on his changing pad on her lap (which is no small task considering his considerable squirminess) with poo everywhere. She laughs. He squirms. I drive.

Finally, just inside the Indiana border, an exit. There is no sign of a gas station, a restaurant, anything that would be of help to us, but it is an exit, so I get off and start looking. There is one place that looks open: A liquor store. I run in and ask if they have a public restroom, and the guy shakes his head. I say, "Man, are you a father?" He looked at me real funny, and I told him we just had a diaper blowout. He says, "Yep, I am a father. Bring him in."

I run out to the car and get Kari and Braden. Kari carries him and the changing pad, I carry the diaper, blanket, paper towels and wipes. We go inside and the guy points us to the back, where we are met by what I can only describe as a liquor-store-owning-angel (am I allowed to say that? Is that blasphemy?). This lady tells us she has grandkids, and that she's been there. She takes us into the liquor warehouse where there is plenty of room. We are surrounded by Maker's Mark, Jack Daniels, Bacardi and Zima. She brings more paper towels, garbage bags for Braden's soiled clothes and the nasty diaper, soap, water, refreshments (well, not refreshments, but you get the idea). Kari works her mommy magic, and the next thing you know, he's clean as a whistle. We told the lady what a blessing she has been, and we're back on the road.

Ah, the joy children bring. :)

Now reading: Dieterich Bonhoeffer's Christmas Sermons (a fabulous gift from my fabulous wife)
Colts: 14-2; magic number: 3