Yesterday afternoon, we left on a 4.5 hour road trip to Pittsburgh. We are out here out to celebrate the hubster’s grandfather’s 90th {holy crap} birthday.

About a half hour into the car ride, we hear from the back, “I don’t feel good.”

Both of our heads immediately spin around and the car slows down. “What’s wrong baby? What do you mean you don’t feel good?”

“I feel sick.”

At this point, I am rummaging around looking for a plastic bag and panicking about a vomitting 3 year old in the car.
“Are you ok, baby?”
“Mom, my car’s sick.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My car.” ::holds Lightning McQueen up:: “He doesn’t feel good.”
I think the entire car breathed a sigh of relief.

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