What is it about vomit that makes such great blog fodder?
Every time one of my kids starts blowing chunks I have the essay written out in my head by the time I'm finished cleaning it up. I don't always post these jewels, but I always, always, compose them.
It's coping mechanism, I think. If I can think of a way spin the situation into something funny, or even just mildly entertaining, even as I'm dealing with the gross reality it becomes easier to bear.
That being said...
Monday morning dawned bright and clear. It was a day we all look forward to, Dog Grooming day.
On grooming days The Mr drops the pup at the dog wash in the morning before going in to work.
The rest of us get up, dress and follow them in to town. We run errands, meet up with our Mr for lunch and then pick up a clean fluffy dog. These are good days.
Monday morning Zizza came down and laid in my bed while I styled my hair. She got up and went into the toilet/tub portion of the bathroom. I heard choking. "You ok babe?" I called to her. "I'm going to throw up" was the reply I both expected and got. I opened the door and found her sitting on the toilet rather than leaning over it. This concerned me. I couldn't yank her off and turn her around. If her tummy's upset and threatening spillage on either end, the bottom end is the one I want on the toilet. I would have to find an alternate receptacle for the spew.
I flung open the cabinet door, hoping against hope that the cleaning bucket was in there. It wasn't I knew it wasn't but I'd looked anyway on the chance I was wrong.
I didn't find the bucket I was seeking but I did find salvation from mopping vomit off my floor. There, in the back of the cabinet were the hair clippers, clippers stored in a rubbermaid container. Another gagging noise erupted from the throat of my four year old and I plucked that rubbermaid from it's cozy corner and dumped the contents none too gently on the floor.
I was just in time.
Thing is, after all that drama with the bucket she hardly even puked. I actually wondered if she was just testing herself to see if she could do it.
She was chipper as could be once she finished, ate breakfast, ran around, made me fear for my sanity should she take a fancy to faking sick.
So, I took her out that day even in spite of the vomiting, and we had a lovely time.