Motherhood. . .

I tried to catch vomit this week-- with my bare hands. It was at the kid check at Chuck E. Cheese, the girls school was there having a fund raiser and we ready to eat some pizza!!-- that is until Abigayle went from excited and starving to a frail mess in about 2.2 seconds. I turned, only for a minute, to ask about a coupon and then turned back around to see Abigayle covered in puke, crying that she also pooped her pants.

WHAT??? Is this the same kid???  No time to answer that because she was going to puke again and all I could do was cup my hands and offer them as a puke catcher, "Here, my child. . . vomit on me, not the whimsical Chuck E. Cheese carpet. . . "

Later I slept with her on the pull-out couch, which has a mattress thickness comparative to a slice of cheese. However, it does not lack in its support system, which includes 3 large metal bars  right across the pressure points of an average size adult-- comfy.

Trying to make her feel better, I offered a pedicure, and she happily said "please" , as we were finishing up with  her now hot pink glittered toenails my mom stopped by and said "well, I wish I could lay on the couch and get a pedicure. . ." and I replied " I'll gladly give you one, if you go to Chuck E. Cheese, puke on  yourself and crap your pants  and have it witnessed by  30 of your friends . . . . "


She declined.