We were three hours into a 9 hour drive, a blizzard in front of us, and one behind us, not a cellular bar or a rest stop for miles, when my 8yo threw up in the back seat. Naturally, I saw it coming. As a father, I’ve gained a spider sense of sorts for when one of my children get that glossy eyed look, with a half dry heave, that seems to say, “it’s happ…
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