You can’t make this stuff up, part two

For those of you who haven’t read about the Littlest Brewster’s unfortunate timing and accuracy while vomiting, click here.

For those of you who are already acquainted with her prowess, you shouldn’t be surprised by the following story.

Today was supposed to be the day that I took LB and two of her friends from school to an indoor bouncy house in celebration of LB’s birthday. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but I had resigned myself to the prospect.

Well, at 5:15 this morning, LB calls out “Daddy!” from her room. DB goes in to tell her it’s not time to get up yet and promptly comes back to tell me her room reeks of vomit and to grab the flashlight. I followed him in and, sure enough, she’s thrown up in her bed and on the floor.

We get her cleaned up and snuggled up and I tell her that we’ll have to cancel the bouncy house expedition because she’s sick. (She was surprisingly okay with this, which meant she really didn’t feel good.) Thankfully, I already had the day off work so I could stay home with her. We dropped her sister off at daycare (quarantine her with other kids runny noses versus her sister’s stomach bug!) and settled in at home for a quiet day of rest.

Well, the remainder of the day she was fine. Yes, she wasn’t really hungry but she acted reasonably normally. And there was no more vomiting.

Around 3:15, we decided to run into Food Lion for a few things before picking BIT up from daycare. As we’re making our way down the first aisle, LB goes “I think I need to throw up.”

I went into panic mode. I actually glanced at my purse for a split second (which would cost me later) to decide if I should just have her puke in there. But there were too many valuable things, so I snatched her out of the cart and took off running out the store.

We were within 10 feet of the door when she erupted. (Damn you, moment of indecision!)

Luckily, I had my hand out and I caught some in my hand.

And then I caught some in my shirt.

And then some of it landed on the floor anyway.

And then we made it out the door and she threw up the rest on the sidewalk.

Conveniently, it had been raining, so I managed to rinse my hand off in a puddle, pick LB up, and trudge back into the store to inform them with what dignity I could muster while covered in vomit and holding a vomit smeared child that I was very sorry but we had gotten some throw up on the floor of the produce section and they should probably mop it.

And then I trudged out, head held high, with the Littlest Brewster snuggled on my chest, glued together with sick.

Needless to say, it will be a while before I go back there to buy my pre-work yogurt.

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