So… I have a ton of things I could write about this evening.
Except… that isn’t true at all, because my brain isn’t functioning right now, because I keep hallucinating the smell of barf.
And, people, I could write quite a level bit about puke at the moment. It might be because Thing 2 opened his bedroom door at 4:30 this morning and hollered out, “It’s everywhere! It’s everywhere!” And do you know what words you don’t want to hear in the middle of the night?
(Because, let’s face it… 4:30 is the middle of the night; I don’t care who you are, or where you live, or how many donuts you have to get up and make.)
What no one wants to hear in the middle of the night would be the words IT’S and EVERYWHERE. I don’t even care what IT is… I don’t want it everywhere at 4:30 in the morning. Cheesecake? No. I don’t want a mess of cheesecake, even at 4:30 AM. Call me at 9:00 about that, though. Water? Nope. I don’t want puddles and floods at 4:30 in the morning. And TODDLER VOMIT?!
Um… NOT. AT. ALL.
And that is how my day started, because YES and also INDEED… it really WAS everywhere, bless my heart. It was exactly like a sprinkler of puke had been hooked up to a garden hose and placed in the middle of Thing 2’s bedroom.
Everywhere was a very accurate description.
By 8:00 this morning, I had used up two entire rolls of Bounty paper towels, and I was on my second load of laundry. By 9:00, my washing machine sounded like a freight train attempting to stop for HORSE ON THE TRACKS! HORSE ON THE TRACKS!, because it was rattling and clanking and walking across my laundry room floor. Apparently I overestimated how much bedding could be stuffed into an older Whirlpool model that is considered elderly, by Home Depot’s showroom floor standards, and must be treated delicately.
By 11:00 this morning, I realized that there was a major leak beneath my kitchen sink, because WHY NOT? We have one of those tiny little spouts to the right of our faucet, which can be pushed for scalding hot water at any time. And apparently this morning, the tank that heats that hot water to BURN THROUGH SIXTEEN LAYERS OF EPIDERMIS AND BONE decided to… you know… OVERFLOW.
Because Hubs was out of town.
So, I had to yank on my big girl Fruit of the Looms with the elastic waistband and just deal with things. I cleaned puke like a boss, and I gagged and dry-heaved until my stomach muscles had gone through an abdominal workout, the likes of which Olympic athletes only WISH they could handle. And then I used bath towels to clean up the kitchen flood, and then I made myself a cup of chai tea and put my feet up on the sofa while Thing 2 took a nap.
I felt like I’d earned it, because, people, I was like the Army today. I’d done more before breakfast than most folks were going to do all day long.
I’m also in desperate need of a carpet shampooer at the moment, because we have forty acres of hardwood floors in this house, and Thing 2 managed to hit his bed, our bed, his bedroom rug, our bedroom rug, and his upholstered rocking chair. If I stare at the crystal ball, I see myself scrounging up someone’s Bissell tomorrow and getting down to the business of carpet cleaning.
And now tonight, I keep walking around, asking Hubs (Because YES, he’s home from his trip for work now… FINALLY… after all the vomit fallout has settled down.), “Does it smell like puke in here?”
It’s all I can smell… the olfactory hallucinations are about to do me in, and my hands look like they belong to a six-hundred-and-four-year-old troll, because CLOROX, Y’ALL. Buckets and buckets of bleach. And all that Clorox has given me the hands of an experienced bingo player.
Anyway, this is the winter that has beaten us up with two-by-fours to the backs of our heads with all the germs, germs, GERMS. Our family doesn’t usually suffer through this many sick days in four entire years, let alone all in an eight-week time frame.
But spring is coming!
And I hope the blooming flowers smell a little differently than toddler vomit.
Y’all have a happy weekend.