So last night around midnight, Jackie and I had settled in to slumberland when we heard light scratching at Millie's door. I went and opened it and found a small 2-year old version of the Carrie horror film- but instead of being covered with pigs blood,
she was covered with tomato soup that she had eaten 4 hours previously. She had (silently I might add) thrown up her tomato soup, cheese sandwich and milk all over (and I mean ALL OVER) both herself and her bedding. While Jackie proceeded to bathe her, I had to remove all of her bedding down to the mattress, try to rinse it off in the sink (alas, the cheese chunks were too mighty for the drain) and launder them. After using up an entire Febreeze bottle on her mattress and carpet, I remade the bed while Jackie put new pajamas on her and tried to talk her back into going to bed. She wanted to sleep in our bed for a bit, so Jackie and her got into our bed. Of course you guessed what happened next- Jackie calmly held her while she emptied the rest of her stomach contents all over herself, Jackie and our bed. After that, Jackie and Millie had a shower while I stripped our bedding down to the mattress, used another bottle of Febreeze in our room and remade our bed after rinsing out our bedding. So the night's tally went
like this:3 pairs of pajamas for Millie
2 pairs of pajamas for Jackie
2 sets of twin-size sheets
4 pillowcases
2 pillows
3 blankets
4 loads of laundry
6 rags
4 towels
At least 28 squirts of Febreeze to rid our rooms of the smell of regurgitated tomato soup and dairy products.
Needless to say, Millie did not attend church today and is currently wolfing down applesauce and chicken noodle soup. She was just dancing a nude jig on the downstairs couch so we think she's feeling better.
4 comments:
For the record, we did not go through 2 bottles of Febreeze. However, Clin did spray my side of the bed so thoroughly that when I finally laid down on clean sheets and clean p.j.s my back became soaked (what we now call Febreeze back) from the spray on the bed underneath. Consequently I slept halfway down the bed.
Not to be insensitive, but you are not allowed to tell these stories in a forum that Eric has access to.
Cassandra,
Just tell Eric that when you're cleaning up after your own "fruit of your loins" you don't dry heave nearly as much as you would with some other child.
Ha! I'll be sure to tell him that. Unfortunately, I think in Eric's mind, all vomit is created equal.
I look forward to the day when we can test your theory though. Ok, maybe not the puke part but the unconditional love of a parent part.
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