"Why, why, why(!) does this always happen in the middle of the night?!"
"Oh, gross, Twizzlers."
"At least it landed on the linoleum."
"If I left this for morning, would it be more disgusting, or less?"
"Seriously? It had to drip back here to the toilet paper? It was nearly a full roll! Why can't those kids keep the paper on the wall mount? Hmm, I wonder if the toilet paper will wipe up the puke....nope. What a waste. And they call themselves absorbent."
and then the conversation begins
"Surely, God, there's an easier way to get me to mop the bathroom floor."
Obviously not, Jamie, you had company over tonight and it didn't even push you to get out the broom.
"Too true. Too true."
(What? You're telling me God isn't sarcastic with you?)
And then after I've climbed back into my bed, hoping that sticky wet substance on my feet is Lysol disinfectant wipes and not puke....
"Oh, good grief, I didn't even so much as touch Eldest to console him."
I handed him clean clothes. I handed him a drink. I handed him a bowl to puke in. I did not hug the child.
The guilt, it gets you every time.
Twizzlers, eh? Black or red? Blech.
Did you give him an extra hug in the morning?
red. and I pampered him all day. hugs and all.
I got you beat. Last time Kristin puked, she crawled in bed with me first. I didn't even wake up. Then she sat up and started wretching, I jumped up and yelled "BATHROOM!! BATHROOM!!" and pushed her off the bed. Only, her feet were caught in the blankets, so all I did was push her off onto the floor, landing in her own puke.
I think that's worse than a missed hug!
Fortunately, the child is very forgiving. She laughs about it now. (Oh, and the red koolaid stain from the puke, is still there on the carpet by the bed.)
Genetic - it's Genetic. They got it from the Chaos Mother. Think back to your first two weeks. Mom handed you to me to burp while she cleaned up from the nursing (churn)
The first burp managed all the colors and aromas possible right on my shoulder and arm. Then while cleaning up the Chaos Baby the major surprise was a flood of yellow (ugg - ugg) all over Chaos's bottom, back, legs, and my hands, arm - a little splash on my already soiled shirt and making my optical assistants unusable for visualizing the problem.
Yes! Genetic!! Sr Citizen
Middle of the night parenting is all about survival not tenderness.
Don't worry mom, the love that you don't give me, I just supliment with Twizzlers. Oh, I feel sick!
Whats a "Twizzler" Sounds sicking.
Da-ad....Twizzlers are liquorish and I've seen you eat them. Stop.
Laughing out loud...and I needed it. Came in to comment and laughed again at Lynette. Don't know you, but you made my day! Big sis!
so Hubby came home and I had to read this to him. He reminded me that one of my thoughts has been..."call in the dog"...Big Sis
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