In case anyone was under the mistaken impression that I was perfect (laugh even writing that)

Not only did Palmer get no sleep last night, and then puke up his lunch all over Koleen's floor, he then refused to take a nap with mommy back home. 

Ok, I thought, we'll go for a ride. That should help. 

So we drive up to Reykjavik. I wanted to send a Western Union money order. Palmer did not sleep enroute, although he said he would. We show up to the Landsbanki right in the city center at 3:55, and of course they close at 4pm. I have an out of control son, running around demanding the toys out of the cabinet and screaming that he needs to go pee. I am at the window, trying to get help, and the cashier is looking at me like I am crazy. She literally stepped away from the counter when I told her how much I was trying to wire abroad. Looked at Palmer, looked at the clock, looked at me, and was just incredulous. I asked about a bathroom. Nothing doing, we would have to go across the street. 

So down the steps of Cafe Paris we go, into the toilette. And just as Palmer is pulling down his pants, disaster strikes. Pee goes everywhere, all over him, all over the floor, all over the toilette seat.  

Now I am in the basement of Cafe Paris, with a pee soaked son on my hands. Any illusion of buying myself a coffee and acting cool are gone. But I almost don't care. Our exit from Landsbanki was less than civilized, why should our exit from Cafe Paris be any better? Well, I managed between his jacket and my jacket to not let the whole world see that his pants were wet. But as we got into the car (lucky me, I had found a parking spot right on Austurstæti), he starts to strip. I have visions of driving through the city center with a naked little boy in the backseat. Yeah. He agreed to wait until we got on the freeway to strip. 

The one saving grace of the day.