Disclaimer alert: the child above isn't mine, but the look on her face matches that of my youngest right about now. Moving on...
Last Saturday I took my smalls to see Santa and noticed the smaller of my smalls wasn't looking too hot. Her face was flushed and had a chalky grey hue to it. So I asked her about it and all she said was, "My head hurts." I thought hmmm...maybe she should go home and rest.
We bid a fond farewell to Santa and I decided I would pop in to the post office on my way home since it's located on the same street that I live on. I figured it would take me less than a minute, and it did, about thirty-seven seconds to be precise.
But oh what a difference one minute makes.
When I got back out to my truck, my NEW, less-than-a-week-old truck, I noticed my older small had her window all the way down. Again, I thought hmmm. And the reason why is because it was only about twenty-five degrees outside. She sticks her head out the window as far as it will go and says, "Uh mom, she just threw up," and points at her sister. And not just any old throw up--oh no--we are talking projectile vomit here. We're talking it was all over her, the seatbelt, her seat, the seat next to her, the back of the seat in front of her, and fully covering the floor mat on her side. It was even on the inside of her door. And did I regret giving her homemade blueberry pancakes for breakfast? I believe that goes without saying.
I take one look at the entire scene and go into PANIC MODE.
I'd like to say the first thing I thought about was my smallest small and how sad it was that she wasn't feeling well. But alas, no--I will sheepishly admit the first thought that crossed my mind was "Noooooo....not in my new truck!" And then I grabbed the reins of my Dodge Ram and drove about 75 MPH down the street to our house.
When we got home, I of course went into mommy mode (yes...I actually let the truck go for a few precious moments). I got my small into the shower, changed, handed her a bucket and sent her off to bed. And then I spent the next three hours cleaning the seats of my truck with every cleaner I had at my disposal. I scrubbed it good and then sprayed it with some air freshener I had that also doubles as an odor-killing agent.
All of this happened nine days ago. And if you are wondering if my truck STILL smells of throw up, why yes, yes it does. For the most part, it smells like cleaner, but every so often when the sun hits the sweet spot on her seat just right, I smell the wafting scent of puke a la small. And I whip out my trusty double agent air freshener and spray the hell out of the air while I'm driving up the road.
Today I got a call from my daughter's school. When I saw the word "SCHOOL" flash across the screen of my phone, my first thought was, "Noooooo!" When I answered the call I offered a barely audible, "Hello?" I squeezed my eyes shut and did a silent prayer, and then the school secretary said, "Mrs. Bradshaw? Your daughter just threw up in class. Can you come get her?"
Here we go again...but at least I have my handy dandy bucket with me this time. And I have taught my smallest small where her head is and where her stomach is. Let's hope that little lesson will pay off in the future BEFORE we get in mommy's truck.