In Our Element (with vomit)

Loading four dogs into the Element with mom seemed like a good idea. After all, who wouldn’t want to go for a scenic ride down the canyon to play in her grass-filled backyard?

Booker T. Washington Hooker sat on mom’s lap. Houston and Diesel enjoyed the view from the back. Honey kept trying to peak out the front window and leaned over the console.


MOM:   Oh, I hate to ask, but could you get off at 39th South so I can cash a check at my bank?

ME:  No problem.

HONEY (at the light):  BARF.

Up came Honey’s breakfast — a mix of pumpkin, kibble, yogurt, and coconut oil — all over the middle console that doubles as a cooler, the emergency break, the cupholders, and the seat belts.

Since it was nice and chunky, I grabbed it by the handful and hurled it out my window. However, I didn’t have a wet wipe to clean my hands. So, to my mother’s horror, I wiped the chunky bits on the inside of my strapless dress.

After helping the dogs into the shady backyard and filling up bowls with water, I began the kibble cleanup. Mom pulled out a box of “rags;”  turns out, they were my old floral printed panties and Jeff’s tidy whities.  Who uses 30-year-old child’s underwear for rags? MOM.

The Woolite fabric cleaner in the garage cupboard was so old, it wouldn’t spray.


Pulling out the floor mats, cupholder, and cooler, I wiped and hosed down the parts of the Element.

Still stinking of the vomit wiped on my dress, Mom offered me a house dress.


ME:  I can’t wear one of those!  What if I get pulled over in the canyon?

MOM:  Well, if you borrowed one of my house dresses, you’d be more modest.

About Julie Hooker

I'm a teacher, writer, and editor. In addition, I'm an animal rescuer, yogi, and friend.
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