"Ainsley threw up in her bed."
Nothing will rouse you from a NyQuil-induced slumber like hearing your kid has thrown up. I went from comatose to high alert in .5 seconds and found myself cleaning up one of the worst messes I've ever seen.
Ains doesn't tell us when she throws up at night. We always just have to...discover it. From the looks of it, she had actually fallen back asleep in her own vomit last night. If Jason hadn't checked on her at midnight, she probably would have wallowed in it all night long. She looked rather Reagan-from-the-Exorcist-ish.
Even if Jason hadn't told me already that he took her to McDonald's for dinner while I went to three after-school meetings yesterday, I would have been able to guess. I won't be able to even smell McDonald's french fries for a while.
We popped her in the bathtub and rinsed french-fry chunks out of her covers and off of her favorite stuffed animal (poor Lumpy) and got her into our bed. Jason slept on the couch so that he could go to work today and I took up the "puke watch." She got up a few times and coughed and seemed like she was going to hurl again, but by dawn we had both settled in to sleep and the worst was over.
What really amazes me is that I didn't gag, not even once. I have a rather, shall we say, sensitive gag reflex (some would say a weak stomach, but since I rarely actually throw up, I take offense at that accusation) and once I get good and grossed out there's no stopping me. Show me some bodily fluids and watch me walk around randomly heaving for hours like a cat working up a fur ball. I'm well-known in my circle of friends for this trait, and once in middle school, just for kicks and giggles, a classmate passed me a "note" that was really a loogy folded up in a piece of notebook paper. I started gagging, and since I'm not really quiet about it, got the whole class's attention. Which is just what every insecure middle-school girl wants to do.
But I held it together even as I rinsed recognizable bits into the utlity sink and worked shampoo into vomit-tangles. I've used approximately 5 gallons of Lysol and an entire cannister of disinfecting wipes, as well as done 3 loads of laundry, but I think the worst of it is over and all of the nastiness is now just a memory. At least, until I catch the stomach virus and find myself prostrate before the procelain throne at 3am, praying for death.
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You know, I forgot about the "loogy" note incident. That was the longest episode of gagging I have ever heard..how could I have forgot that?! Ah, the good old days.
While I was reading, I was more thinking of the grape-juice-vomit that splashed onto your sock. I thought you handled that pretty well seeing it was on the way back from lunch!!
Now, why is that so clear and I can't remember how to complete the square from our Algebra class???? I guess some things are more important! :-)
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