Vomit Duty 2

Work has been a bear.  I mentioned before that my territory now encompasses the Delta, which I'm very pleased with. 

Yesterday, I took a colleague to south MS to introduce him to the primary agency that I've been representing for the past 5 years.  So, it was a long day involving a lot of travel time and one 3 hour design review meeting.

I got home around 5:45 PM.  The house was empty.  I relish these times...especially after an arduous day.  I looked forward to grabbing a bite to eat before heading to church to sing my heart out.

But...

I knew the women were home when my wife burst through the door calling my name and announcing that we had a problem.

Baby three had vomited all over itself and its car seat while they were in route back to the house from running errands.  Middle child apparently had come close to hurling herself after witnessing her sibling's abdominal expulsion.  Thankfully, the oldest child instructed her to pinch nose and cover mouth post haste, obviously speaking from experience.

So...

Vomit duty called!  This time it involved:  Taking baby three around to the patio to hand off to my wife for an outdoor bath, removing the high dollar european car seat from the vehicle before disassembling it in order to separate the upholstered cover from its plastic base, and finally removing the cover itself after unfastening multiple hidden straps as well as threading various belts over and under and back again through tiny slots in the base.  As I did before, all saturated cloth items were doused with gasoline and burned (after the baby was taken inside from the hose bath) on the patio.  I then decided to run the car seat base through our local automated car wash a few times after bungee cording it down inside the kids' red wagon.  I had to slowly snake it through the "Tunnel Wash" from the opposite end with a long rope tied to the painted metal handle.  Despite my ingenuity, there were still numerous stomach acid marinated lima beans that needed fishing out of the crevices within.

Around 8 PM, I found myself holding baby three whilst rocking her for a few quiet moments after arriving back home.  Hoping that the previous episode had been an isolated incident, I was caught off guard to her sudden involuntary movements followed by the feel and smell of warm vomit oozing down my bare chest.  It came to rest in a chunky pool all across the front of my khaki shorts.

I called in a panic for my middle child to come assist, but despite my cries for help, neither sibling would step foot in the nursery for fear of seeing or WORSE smelling fresh vomit.

So, I was stuck.  Eventually, baby three quieted down and fell asleep.  And to be honest with you, the smell wasn't all that bad.  I wondered if it were possible to bottle the scent and sell it by the ounce at a premium price at the fragrance counter of our local department store.  How celebrities would compete to represent such an odor!

Late into the night, when the house was quiet, I decided to attempt to move.  The wife had long since retrieved baby three from my arms.

Unbeknownst to me, the vomit pool had eaten through my shorts and saturated my crotch while I'd slept.  My entire groin area was crusted over within a hardened shell.  My boy part looked to be encased in peanut brittle.  The more immediate problem was that I had to pee badly.

I began to cry. 

"You stupid dick.", I thought to myself.  "If it weren't for you, I would have never found myself in this mess."

Lagniappe