Projectile vomiting.
Now that everyone except parents have escaped, you may indulge in the guilty pleasure of reading someone else's horror story.
The kid's a bit dramatic. When asked if she's sick (we no longer do), she responds she's sick. This time, it really was a wolf. After a night where no one slept well, the cranky bunch trodded out the door. The wife took the brunt of this one. While en route to preschool, bang, out of nowhere, it happened.
Immediate turn around. Clean the kid, get her to bed, clean the car seat, vacuum the car, laundry, laundry, laundry all with sick parents. Playing with the kid and spending time being beat at Candy Land is the fun part. These incidents are where we earn our stripes. It reminds us of the utopia of boredom, we cut our time in pergatory, we're less queasy in most situations that used to shock us; years later we laugh at it while still feeling stabbed by the pain. Let's hope it passes fast.
Wish I could've taken the bullet on this one Hon.
7 comments:
Eh. No sweat. I hope you have some fun today.
Wow.
Right there with you, though. I remember the days where I could just be sick. Now, almost invariably, when I'm sick, Son is sick, too, so I get to be sick parent.
At least we got to pump the economy by consuming large quantities of cleaning products. I feel like an American now damnit.
It's not like parents are the only one's that go through this. Didn't you guys get your vomit-cleanup training in college like I did?
Oh, dave, I feel for ya. We dealt with the pukeys while on vaca at the Jersey shore a couple of years back. So far this year, we've been pretty lucky - some colds and such, but no GI (that sound you hear is me knocking on my wooden head for luck...).
Baby Boy EC has the diaper rash. Mrs. EC insists that we let baby hang out sans pamper to let him air out. First time in the crib hanging free, he pees on my foot, then poops on the crib.
Course, Mrs. EC insists on doing this again, once again, BB EC poops in the crib.
One night up because of diaper rash left me so tired, I bent the door back on the mrs' brand new car by backing up with the door open against a parking meter.
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