Okay...okay. So I've "lucked out" so far on my parenting journey. I can actually count on one hand the number of times my kids have gotten physically sick. I confess, I always feel extreme sympathy for those whose kids often...hmmm...vomit? Throw up? Upchuck? It really doesn't matter how you say it, or what term you use. It's not pleasant, right?
Okay...okay. So I've been "paid back" tonight. (One day I'll listen to her when she says her tummy hurts so much....)
Emily has a loftbed. We got it for her when we lived in a 2-bedroom apartment, in order to give her more space in the room she shared with Edward. Now, in her own room, it still gives her lots more space. I've always thought it a grand idea...that is, until tonight. How does an 8-year-old get out of a loftbed, run across her room, and make it to the trashcan in time to throw up in it?
The answer? She doesn't...
I'll spare you the details -- because my stomach is still queasy thinking about it -- but it was everywhere. In spots...well, I'm not still not sure how she managed it. We did clean up her room and wash her bedding...and her 6-foot stuffed pegasus....
Now, she's resting in the livingroom with a trashcan beside her and a bathroom within a few steps. And I'm off to find my can of Lysol....
2 comments:
Uuurgh. Oh, how lovely for you. ;o)
I don't have kids myself (just cats, and they produce an altogether different mess-experience) but my adorable godson used to do a wonderful line in public projectile vomiting. Usually after he'd just wolfed down twice his body weight of chips (or as you probably know them, fries).
Luckily I have a strong stomach... ;o)
As I said, we've been very blessed in not having to deal with more of this kind of stuff.... Public "displays" would be even harder to deal with....
Glad my tummy stayed strong...though I was wavering at one point.
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