Monkey ate something rancid and threw up for 2 days.
I dont do vomit. I can handle blood, and guts, and most poo-related incidents without gagging. But vomit... NOPE! I knew going into motherhood that this would eventually be a problem, and have been fortunate enough to avoid it for nearly 7 years.
Fortunately, we have Blondie. She rescued me yesterday.
Monkey was leisurely sipping her soup, when she suddenly got that "Oh-no, not again!" look on her face. She jumped up, ran (or stumbled) through the kitchen and living room, made it to the doorway of the laundry room and lost it right there on the carpet... then proceeded into the laundry-bathroom and finished her business in the proper place. She's a trooper.
I tried to help. Really.
But the mere sound of someone upchucking makes my face pucker and my throat heave.
I think Blondie caught on to this, because she jumped in and said "I've got this, ewww... you go run or something."
So. I Did.
I left my 14 year old step-daughter to clean my baby girls vomit out of the carpet, while I got some fresh air and an awesome run.
Sure, I felt mildly guilty, but Monkey didnt need me. She just went back to laying on the couch, looking all cute and pathetic. And Blondie knew that someone else cleaning the ick out of the carpet was better than my futile attempt, and ultimate addition to the problem, would be.
On the way home I grabbed some Arm-and-Hammer Carpet Deodorizer (light scent my ass.)to try to "help", and brought Blondie her favorite wildberry smoothie.
Then made her dinner.
And did her chores.
and she loves me!
Gruyère Gonna Want to Read This
4 hours ago