We have survived the a fore mentioned in the last seven days. Actually, we are still getting through The Kid's never-ending cold/"touch of bronchitis," as diagnosed by his pediatrician. The puke fest took place at The Kid's final birthday celebration, by the birthday boy himself. We first spent a couple of hours at a local ceramic shop where the kids had an awesome time painting. Then we walked to a local park to let the kids play for a bit. It was all very causal and fun, but then things took a turn for the worse. Let me just put it to you this way:
Mucus + Sugar + Running at the park = Linda Blair Projectile Vomiting.
Poor, kid (I have to go on record, though, in saying that I warned The Kid, and even pulled him aside twice, not to run too hard or too much given that he was still getting over a cough. But, I realize, that's a very tall order at your own birthday celebration.)! Luckily, Aqua Man was with him right before he was about to "throw up", and had the mind to pull The Kid off to the side, away from everyone, so that this was not witnessed by all, nor did it cover everyone else at the park. It did, however, entirely cover The Kid and Aqua Man, and eventually, myself. The Kid was, understandably, crying hysterically and really freaked out. I covered him up as best as I could, pulled him to me so that everyone wouldn't see him covered in vomit and then carried him off to a more private spot. He calmed down after a few minutes, and said through the tears still rolling down his face, "Mommy, that was the worst throwing up ever in the world! When is it going to end?" I hugged him and said, "I think you're done throwing up, buddy." And while he, thankfully, was done, we did have to leave the park right away. Needless to say, it was a very abrupt end to his party, not to mention, well, smelly.
We arrived back at our car, packed The Kid in, loaded up, cracked the windows, and took off for home. For a few minutes we were sharing stories of "embarrassing childhood puking moments" with The Kid as a way to help ease what we imagined was his horror of the moment. He was taking it all in, nodding his head, but not saying much. I was thinking, oh my god, this is going to be burned into his brain, eclipse all other memories of his 5th birthday and probably come up when he is in therapy 20 years from now. Then, right before he fell asleep on the ride home, he announced, "Well, good thing I waited until I was OUTSIDE to throw up. I'm REALLY glad I didn't PUKE while I was PAINTING!" Glass half-full, baby, glass half-full.
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