Maybe I’m a lucky Mom. Maybe I was just careful enough to avoid it. Maybe…oh I don’t know, I think I was just lucky. Then I went and ruined it. Typical of me, naturally. What happened is that I posted on someone else’s blog that I had never had to clean up puke before, only a little baby spit-up and some pee once in awhile. I did it to myself really.
Last night I had to go to The Church and put a few things on the bulletin board for Primary because the pictures of the kids didn’t take up nearly as much space as I thought they would. Mr. B asked me very nicely if we could please go home yet. I told him we would head home as soon we went to w.a.l.m.a.r.t and I picked up cat food, lysol, and PAM. While in said store, Mr. B sat calmly and quietly in the cart, occasionally asking if I got “the list stuff” yet so we could go home.
“Let’s PLEASE be Homies, Momma.” he said softly.
I relented (because that place is just a disaster and a mess and was super crowded!) and we checked out with our stuff and made our way to the car.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Yes, Momma.” he replied. “I would like cereal for dinner please.”
“Sorry, buddy” I said, “Daddy said we aren’t allowed to eat cereal for dinner anymore. It’s not healthy. How about a bean burrito?”
“Ok,” he said.
I ran to Taco Bell, grabbed two bean burritos without onions, drove home, unloaded the bags and we sat down to eat.
“My beans are yucky, Momma.” Mr. B informed me.
Thinking he just wanted to eat mine, I let him take a bite to see they were the same.
“Yours is yummy, Momma. May I please eat more?”
“Eat two more bites of yours and then you can have more of mine.” I told him.
He obeyed. I shared the rest of mine and we got ready for bed. All he wanted to do was sit on my lap, so we went into my bedroom and sat in the rocking chair for a little bit. Anyone who knows my son knows that he doesn’t just want to sit on anyone’s lap for long, so I suspected that he wasn’t feeling well. That feeling was confirmed when he fell asleep on my lap a few moments later.
Not wanting this rare and tender moment to pass, I just sat there and held him for a few minutes. My baby. My big boy. My son.
Mr. B coughed. The coughed again. Then he started to choke a little. I lifted up his head and out spewed half of the dinner he ate. And let me tell ya, bean burritos don’t smell so great after they’ve been ruminating around in a young boy’s stomach for a few minutes.
Still half asleep, I tried to stand Mr. B up to keep us from stepping in the PUKE, and he came to enough to stand there and look around and say, “What is all that stuff, Momma? It’s stinky.”
Then he started to cough again. And then he started to PUKE so more. I lifted him up by the arms in an attempt to swing him into our bathroom, which only ended in PUKE being spewed on the door, cabinet, floor, and around the bottom of the toilet. Mr. B stood looking down into the toilet water and managed to spit ONE BEAN into the water. ONE BEAN when my whole room looked as though someone had exploded in it.
Now, I have never, NEVER, cleaned up PUKE before. Spit-up, bird poop, stinky diapers, dog throw up, lots of other gross things I have dealt with. But not PUKE. It stinks! It’s nasty! It’s just gross!!!
I had to strip Mr. B down to his chonies and get clean jammies on him. Then he rinsed his mouth out, brushed his teeth, and climbed into his own bed with his very own PUKE bowl resting next to him. And then came the hard part. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know what I would have done to get the smell out of the carpet.
It took me 8 teakettles of water and 16 towels to clean up the entire mess so my room didn’t smell like PUKE anymore. I looked kinda like this girl, but I was stepping on towels and sopping up boiling hot water.
I did discover something, though. If I used a dry, dark towel and put it on the boiling water right after I poured it, I could step on it and write my initials and other shapes on the towel (until I had to keep stepping to keep soaking up the PUKE water).
When Gila Man called from work to see what I was up to, he got quite an earfull. We finally just laughed about it and reminded each other about how there’s a first time for EVERYTHING. Even PUKE.
But you can bet your bottom we’re having cereal for dinner tonight.