Apparently it is ill-advised to turn your back on your three year old and an innocent piece of string cheese for any length of time. I'll warn you, the following story contains woeful tales of vomit and dairy, a combination most revolting.
Scene: Zoey in the dining room, swinging her legs from her chair. Me in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.
Me: Zoey. You've barely eaten anything today. If you want to go to the park, you have to choose: yogurt, or string cheese.
Zoey: I don't like yogurt!
Me: Okay, string cheese.
Zoey: I don't like string cheese!
Me: Whatever. You liked it yesterday. (Unwrapping the, thankfully, last piece of string cheese in the fridge.)
I turn my back for, I swear, 20 seconds, and suddenly hear a sound most unpleasant--like a large hairball suddenly lodged in the vacuum cleaner, followed by the sound of, OH MY GOD CHILD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?
Zoey has effectively shoved the entire piece of string cheese in her mouth at once, causing herself to choke and subsequently projectile vomit all over everything. EVERYTHING, PEOPLE.
What we have left is a child, her hair, a chair, part of a table, a wall, a considerable patch of carpet, the dishwasher rack, AND HER MOTHER'S CUPPED HANDS covered in vomit. And I, ever the kind and sympathetic mother, say to her:
YOU ARE LUCKY I AM HOLDING YOUR VOMIT IN MY HANDS BECAUSE IF I WEREN'T I WOULD USE THEM TO WRING YOUR NECK.
Which causes her, of course, to burst in to tears because she is scared from her near-death experience at the hands of a fucking piece of cheese, and her mother's focus on the vomit cupped in her hands, not the trauma inflicted by this incident. As she continues to cry while I wash out my hands, she manages to gasp "I'm not sick! I still want to go to the park!".
A bath, two wardrobe changes, a load of laundry, and a LOT of rags and Mrs. Meyer's cleaner later, we were on our way to the park.
Her rationale for doing what she did? "I wanted to hurry up. So we could go to the park."
Which made me want to beat my (bleach-cleaned) fists against my own forehead.
3 comments:
Ohh.....been there, lady! Will has a habit of doing those kinds of things, he always takes me literally when I ask him to "hurry up." He did that with a donut once, shoved the whole damn thing in his mouth. I just put out my hand and said "spit it out." UGH!
Motherhood is soooooo not for the weak of heart!
did mom get this much of a laugh out of us? and whose puke did she catch again, alisa's? so not cool. gross. cat puke, dog poop, fine. but human fluids? not happening.
OMG. I nearly wet my pants. Thank God you're out of string cheese. And isn't that instinct to catch the vomit strange? Like, what are you going to do with it? ;)
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