Perhaps you can guess that Cubby was sick yesterday? Indeed. He woke up from his afternoon nap in a pool of his own vomit*. Just like a college frat boy, except without the fun night of debauched alcoholic consumption that usually leads to such a result.
Poor kid. He was a mess. A disgusting, cheesy-smelling mess. I put him right in a bath and then spent the next hour or so holding him while he clung limply to my neck. The very same neck he then threw up on at least once before I got smart about it and started draping myself in a towel.
Kids are really gross sometimes. In case you didn't know.
This is the first time in his entire short life that he's vomited, and I think he just really didn't know what was happening. He was surprisingly stoic about it, actually, perhaps due to his confusion about the whole thing. After about an hour, though, he perked up enough to ask after the dogs and soon he was running around as if he had not puked on me a mere hour before.
If only we were all so resilient.
Here's hoping today features much less disgusting bodily fluids. I don't ask much, really. A day without vomit would do nicely.
* Vomit that included the remains of some blueberries. It was . . . very colorful. I'll leave it at that.
6 comments:
Been there and done that. Then the two of us stood in the shower with our clothes on.
Poor kid, Anna just threw up in the car half way through a 100 mile trip to the airport. It is going to be a fun day. Thank God we are only picking up grandpa and not flying.
Awww, the puke memories are so precious!
My sympathies! I've been there.
Believe it or not, my kids never vomited on me. They vomited many other places but not on me. But my son did once make certain I was covered from neck to knees in hot foamy liquid poop. I actually stripped both of us down and we got in the bathtub together. All his clothes and mine were disposed of. Just couldn't bring myself to launder them.
Um, that was me. Typing too fast.
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