Friday, June 19, 2015

Grown up kid puke

Today was the first day that we had a child old enough to puke real, big kid, food  half digested puke. 

I had just dropped of Eme at her daycare and was on the way to drop off Dario and Cora at their daycare.  I was at the stoplight thinking about what I was going to have to deal with at work.  New trainees, a pile of "to do", putting the kabash on office drama and having a Come to Jesus talk with one of my CSR's. 

Then I heard this gushing noise from the backseat.  I turned my head to find vomit shooting out of my sweet Cora's face.

I didn't scream.

Immediately rolled down my window, pulled into a parking lot and freaked out via text to Traci.  I didn't want Cora to hear me freaking out about the pile of chunks all over her lap and the chair. 

OKAY HONEY!! YOU ARE OKAY!!! *in an overly happy tone that did not correlate at all with the event* *rolling down the rest of the windows* RELAX, DONT TOUCH IT, MAMA IS GONNA MAKE IT BETTER.

I started to cold sweat.

It didn't get on Dario. 

He was going to school. 

I was traumatized and I needed a hose.

They is just going to have to understand that wherever we go they are going to have to travel with buckets on their laps.


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