As we were traveling up to visit my husband's parents, we decided to stop at the half way point, a gas station/Subway. This is the place that I met them to hand over Joy, January 16, 2008, the last day I saw my daughter alive. I haven't been back to this place since. Our other trips I have purposely avoided the stop. So I geared up to handle it and inside we went. I showed the kids the table she was climbing on clutching the bag of cheetos I had bought her. In case we were going to get all sentimental or something, we were brought back to the present with our sweet baby exploding. And I mean exploding.
It always happens at the most inconvenient times. For example. No changing table in the bathroom. I mean the gas station is in the middle of nowhere. They could at least have a changing table. So fair warning if you ever want to stop and eat there.
Don't sit at the first table on your left as you enter. Yep. I changed my daughter on a table in Subway. I know. It's really gross to think about. I used paper towels to lay her on. Lots of baby wipes to clean up. It even required a change of clothes for me.
It really lightened the mood and made us all laugh during a time that might have been sad.
