| A parent occasionally needs a reminder that they love their children. Tonight, I had to get the reminder from Anna before I filled her in as to why I needed it. Before continuing, you may want to be sure you have a trash can near by; this gets gross. I was upstairs checking on the room that Jacob and Andrew share, lovingly and creatively referred to as "the boys' room." As I walked in, I noticed Andrew in his bed trying his best to hide something on his bed. I honestly figured it was a toy (generally, they're not allowed to have toys in their bed room; that's why they have a play room). Were it so easy... After I asked if he was hiding something, Andrew sighed in defeat, like a long-time fugitive finally dropping the gun when he realized he's been caught. He revealed a large blotch of ... something ... in his bed. It took me a minute, but I quickly realized that it was vomit; he had puked in his bed. We had only been home for 10-15 minutes at most and he seemed fine, so, confused and concerned, I asked if that had just happened. He sighed that same way again. "No..." "Well then, when?" "Last night." That's right. He blew Hawaiian Punch-tinted, corn-infused chunks on his bed at some point the previous night and just left it there. Fan...tastic. Like any good parent, I tried my best to stay calm, but also made a point of explaining to him that he REALLY should have told Anna or I about it right away, that he'd never get in trouble for being sick. I began to take the sheets off the bed only to discover that he had also nailed his Pillow Pet in the process. I checked the tag and saw that it's a "surface clean"-only item, so I broke it to him that it'd have to be thrown away. That made him sad for a second, then he thought about what I was telling him, that I couldn't get "THAT" cleaned out of it.There's really nothing to prepare you for this situation. I mean, sure, Anna and I are three kids in (with a fourth soon on the way), so we've dealt with our share of puke. Day-old puke is a whole different thing. You're initially upset with the kid because he made quite a large mess for you to clean up. On the other hand, you have to put yourself in his 6 year-old shoes. You get sick, have no clue how to clean it up and know you're going to upset your parents, who are already in bed, if you tell them. So, he did what he thought was best. What he told us of his evening was almost as shocking as finding the puke. The problem-solving process of a 1st grader in action was actually fairly fascinating. After getting sick in his bed, he got up, and went downstairs to the bathroom to wash some vomit that had settled in his ear. He had nailed his own pajama shirt, so he took that off and tried to put it in the laundry basket. Instead of going straight in, it caught the side and deposited some lovely red chunks on the rim. He then returned to the bedroom and got a fresh shirt. Looking at his bed, he realized he wasn't going to be able to sleep in it. So, he dug out a sleeping bag, made room for it on the floor, grabbed his regular pillow, which had luckily been spared, and slept on his bedroom floor. To his credit, a couple of times this morning, he came up to Anna and I both and said, "I have to show you something." Most mornings this is some Lego creation or a picture that he's drawn. We enjoy seeing that stuff, but not in the always-hectic mornings, so we each brushed him aside. First thing he said to Anna when we picked him up from the sitter's tonight was, "I have to show you something," so, other than when I surprised him by coming up to his room, he never tried to conceal it. He knew it needed someone's attention other than his. Anyway, these are the types of experiences that you have as a parent for which there is no preparation. The whole thing was so... so... shocking/gross/revolting/amusing that all Anna and I could do was laugh. What else can you do? Post it to the Internet for everyone else's amusement, apparently. |
