Volcano (you don't wanna, you don’t wanna know)

You really don't wanna know about these past two days, especially because I don't want to relive them. But the story is one to tell.

We awoke early yesterday to go to Pompeii. While getting ready, Dinah announced with a panic that she was sick. Not “sick of going to see things every day,” but rather sick as in “I'm going to poop in my pants and throw up on you if you don't help.” Having a sick 4-year-old is never really fun, and being away in another country where you don't really speak the language with a sick 4-year-old has never, ever been on anyone’s to-do list.

We made the most of it. The kids likely all needed a quiet day (a real quiet day, not like this trick quiet day). And Jess and I each separately  got to take a stroll around the neighborhood to explore a
bit, something we tend not to do as a pack of five. While this trip is being made up as we go along, we do at least have a bit of a plan by the time we walk out the door each morning.

This morning was more interesting. Since Dinah was feeling better, we were going to get up early to go to Pompeii (sound familiar?). Dinah was the first to hit the brakes again with this exclamation: “What the heck!? There's water on the floor!”

Not good. In fact, there was about two inches of water on the floor…the ENTIRE first floor of the apartment. Apparently, there was a pipe that burst in the bathroom early in the morning that flooded the house. Because our windows were open, and Napoli is always loud, no one thought the sound was anything concerning in their half-awake state.

Complete chaos ensued. Trying to save our bags, find the leak, figure out how to turn off the water, tell the owner of the flat to bring life preservers, try to keep kids from floating away - stuff like that. Eventually, a plumber came. He didn't speak English, so the first words we heard were “Oh, mama mia!” I think I may have used some words that shouldn't be put in here.

It was really quite a miracle that everything got fixed and dried out, nothing was damaged, and the flat is back to normal tonight (the floor is really clean now!). To top it all off, we made the trip to Pompeii.

Could 20,000 people still fit in this colosseum with broken seats and all these weeds?  

Vesuvius is looming over this picture. Note, the boys can't stop laughing at the giant penis. 

This table was owned by Servilius Casca, one of the conspirators in the assassination of Julius Caeser (and a character in a Shakespeare play) 

2,000 years ago, these folks had a worse day than we did