10-24-06

Let me just start this story by saying that our downstairs bathroom is torn up (unusable) and my 14 year old had a friend staying over. SO at 5:00 a.m. Saturday morning when my 14 year old stampeded into the hall bath and began to heave into the bathroom sink, two things ran through my mind. First thank god he made it into the bathroom and second… Gross! (See how I care if their sick, just where they get sick). I don’t want to get sidetrack but at this point I would like to say I have no idea why he threw up, everyone I tell this story to asks me “why did he throw up?” Um… huh? How am I suppose to know, he licked a garbage can lid on a dare, he’s training for the vomit Olympics, he was attacked by small gremlins in his sleep that pummeled at his stomach, I don’t know. Anyway I kicked my husband to go help him (the reason for this, 97% me cleans vomit to the 3% he contributes.) Okay he gets into the bathroom and my even my husband (who says he doesn’t care where the kids vomit…3% people) was like, Eww. At that point I say well clean it up (remember we have a guest and people need the sink and I don’t want to start mass puking as the others wander in there and smell it.) My thoughtful husband, the man I chose to spend the rest of my life with says… “You can get it in the morning”… Huh? What? Pinch me I’m dreaming right? He said “YOU” … I think I may have to open a can of whoop ass! This story is getting a bit too long let’s just end it by saying “How was your dinner, honey, not too spicy?”