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She was probably a year old and had just finished eating. I was laying down and holding her up above me and making faces and silly sounds at her with my mouth wide open. She was giggling away. Then out came her lunch.
Guess where it went?
I think my wife laughed so hard she wet her pants a little.
I like how he says "you owe me"... she owes him for taking care of his own child? His wife has probably cleaned more puke and dealt with more gross than he has, especially if she's a SAHM. Perhaps it was just dad's turn.
I like how he says "you owe me"... she owes him for taking care of his own child? His wife has probably cleaned more puke and dealt with more gross than he has, especially if she's a SAHM. Perhaps it was just dad's turn.
I think my daughter was five and had a UTI. She was put on an antibiotic which made her sick to her stomach. On the home from some place she threw up in the car. So my then eight year old saw that and also threw up. We're cleaning that up and then the six year old had to throw up. We've got three kids on the side of the road and we clean out the car. I get my daughter strapped back in and we start to drive off. My middle child comes running after us. We'd forgotten he wasn't in the car. It's funny now. We really looked like bad parents that night.
I like how he says "you owe me"... she owes him for taking care of his own child? His wife has probably cleaned more puke and dealt with more gross than he has, especially if she's a SAHM. Perhaps it was just dad's turn.
No, most parents owe the parent who deals with a particularly bad misplaced body fluid. And the non-dealing parent usually realises how lucky they are, too.
Years ago, I was on my way home from work to meet my boyfriend for a date when I became violently ill and projectile vomited a breakfast of strawberry pancakes all over the inside of my car. It was everywhere: the dashboard, the seat, and me. I pulled in the driveway, staggered into the house, pulling off pink-vomit soaked clothing and yelling for my mom to help me. An hour later, I got out of the bath, the vomiting episode thankfully behind me, and went out into the driveway to clean up the car. As I exited the house, I was stunned and eternally grateful to see my now husband stooped over the driver's seat and scrubbing away while wearing an apron, elbow-length kitchen gloves, and a face mask. I'm pretty sure I fell completely, totally, irretrievably in love with him in that moment.
My husband and I had a deal when our kids were little. Assuming we were both there, he handled any vomit related incidents and I handled any blood related ones. He gets light headed at the sight of blood and I'm a gagger when vomit is involved. A match made in heaven!
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