Monday, November 9

She's Really Good at Faking Sick. Or Something.

As I sat at my desk furiously typing data into the LMS, my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and let out a groan. There are many numbers I'd rather not see, and real high on that list is the one for daycare. They never call to tell me how well-behaved my kid is. Rather, it's always about a fever or puke or something equally delightful.

Puke it was. Delightful!

I begrudgingly drove over to daycare to pick up The Puker. Apparently she didn't have a fever, but she had earned a Get Out of Jail Free pass by projectile vomiting all over the preschool room. My inability to remember to send extra clothes to school stood proudly on display as The Puker was forced to don horribly mismatched gear and no shoes.

I think the bad outfit was to blame for what happened on the way home. If I had been dressed in pink heart-covered leggings and a ridiculously too small Hello Kitty sundress, I would have puked all over it, too.

It's too bad Alexis was in the car when she decided her outfit was vomit-worthy.

At any given point in time, there is enough food in my car to concoct dinner for four. If only I could find a recipe that calls for stale popcorn, crunchy fruit snacks, withered Lima beans, dried up blueberries, and dog hair, we would be all set for a gourmet feast. (It's my own fault. I'm the one who lets the kid eat in my car. However, Alexis gets at least 2% of the blame. If she didn't eat soooo freeeeaking slooooooowly, I wouldn't have to let her eat in the car once in a while.)

I don't think I have to tell you that puked up Strawberry Shredded Wheat doesn't really do much for the Crumb Casserole I had going on in my car. I quickly rolled down the windows so I wouldn't gag. Meanwhile, Alexis sat in the back complaining that she was dirty and needed napkins. I am an awesome parent when puke is involved, so I handed her a napkin and wished her luck. I just don't get why she doesn't enjoy sitting in a puddle of her own puke. I REALLY don't get why she thought I should stick my hands in that goop.

As we pulled into the driveway, it was pretty obvious that whatever had made the kid sick was splattered all over the car. She was feeling mighty fine, even as I sat gagging while trying to find a clean spot on her seat belt release. Once her clothes were changed, she ran off to torture a dog or two and left me to clean up the Puke Casserole that had been converted to Puke Stew. It took a hose, four towels, and every ounce of willpower I had to muddle through the disaster zone.

Awwww, this parenting thing is just *so* glamorous.

12 comments:

  1. Oh, gross. Sorry. There's nothing quite like kid puke to bring you back down a glamor notch.

    My favorite puke memory is finding chunks of puke from the 5-day long virus both my kids had splattered under my nightstand THREE MONTHS after the illness.

    Hawt.

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  2. Awww...I hope she is better!

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  3. Ugh. Now I'm gagging.
    Hope you are both better now.

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  4. Anonymous9:41 AM

    Sweet Heebus, puke is horrible. I don't care what anyone says, it's downright horrible.


    Hope she's feeling better!

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  5. this seriously made me giggle so much. not at the fact alexis was puking everywhere, but my oh my do you have a way with words. i hope she's feeling better and that the car is back to looking, and smelling, normal.

    xoxo

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  6. I did that once at a gas station with only paper towels from the dispenser to clean up with. The kid rode nekkid the rest of the way to grandma's and we both took turns gagging.

    Why do fathers never experience this kind of fun?

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  7. At least she felt better once she got it all out!

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  8. High fever? No problem! Runny nose? Bring it on! Puke? I run like heck in the opposite direction.

    Glad Alexis is fine.

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  9. Gah, that last comment was from me.

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  10. That was difficult to read, so I can't even imagine being there and cleaning it up! I am a complete wimp when it comes to that particular parenting bonus. Hope she is doing better now!

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  11. I might have you beat here....

    One year when the teenager was only about 1 or 2, we went on an 8-hour road trip. In the middle of winter. In a snow storm. Because we were all sorts of intelligent like that. Anyway.... the carseat was strapped in the middle of the back seat, with the kid in it. And packed tightly around him were our blankets, pillows and various luggage bits.

    And we start hearing that pre-puke gagging sound. Frantically searching for something, ANYTHING, to catch it in, I come to one awful realization. All we had..... were my hands.

    So yes, I caught his puke. And I have never let him live it down. He soooo owes me.

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  12. I think I would have sold the car. *shudder*

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