Not THAT bag!

On Saturday my mom and I took the boys on some errands and then stopped at McDonald’s to buy them lunch on the way to her house. For their Happy Meal side dishes, Gus chose French fries, and Max chose the apples with caramel dipping sauce. The boys started eating their lunch in the car as we drove. (I never claimed to be a genius.)

About half-way to my mom’s, Gus said, "Mom, I’m sick." (The three words I fear when driving on a road with nowhere to pull over.) I glanced back at him, and he looked pale as a ghost.

Gus: "Mom, I need to throw up."

Me: "Gus … grab a bag and throw up in there."

[Short pause.]

Max: "GUS! Not THAT bag! Gus! GUS!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!!!"

[Sobbing commences.]

Max’s chicken nuggets were history.

After we drove down the road a little further, I asked Gus why he had thrown up in Max’s bag instead of his own.

Gus: "Because I didn’t want to throw up on my French fries."

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