"There's a very fine line between love and nausea." - King Joffe Joffer, Ruler of Zamunda
Bud had her one-year checkup at the pediatrician yesterday, where she got four (!) shots. The doctor warned us that she may have a reaction to them; perhaps a rash, perhaps a fever.
She didn't mention projectile vomit.
Your humble narrator got home from work last night as Newmommy was feeding Bud. It seemed like a typical night. As I was changing, I hear the sound of disgust from Newmommy (albeit somewhat muted, for Bud's sake, of course). Bud had thrown up all over her, the glider and the carpet. And, I don't mean spit-up or "cheese." I mean chunky, recognizable-food-pieces, if-I-was-in-college-I-would-have-someone-hold-my-hair-back barf. I recognized her dinner, but could not place the large orange chunks. Newmommy explained, "that was the cantaloupe I fed her at lunch." Yuck, how long does it take to digest?
I decide the division of labor...Newmommy, you go clean yourself up, and then the chair and floor. I will clean up Bud and give her a (second) bath.
I chose poorly.
Just as I picked her up, she puked all over me! Either my baby eats more than anyone I know, or that throw-up contained some of the weekend's meals.
Baby throw up. Priceless.
P.S. When did they come out with the Chicken Pox vaccine? What's first grade going to be like without two-weeks of sitting in a bathtub of Calamine lotion?
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