Carl's mom picked Cale up at the babysitter this afternoon so that she could have a little quality time with him. So, I didn't have to drive up Crow Mountain to get him, which was nice! At 4:30 after our faculty meeting, I rushed outside to find Cale waiting for me at the door with a fresh haircut. It was so nice to see him at school, and to show him off to my friends. So after walking through the building and getting my bags, we headed out to the car. As we were driving through town, I heard the sound. A sound I've come to recognize and dread. Coughing, followed by gagging and gurgling. I reluctantly looked up into my rearview mirror to see vomit pouring out of my son's mouth and nose. Then, the sound began again and the scenario was repeated. By this point, poor Cale, and the entire carseat, was covered with...stuff. Being stuck in Russellville traffic, there wasn't much I could do. He just sat there, holding it in his hands and crying while I sped to Arvest to enlist the help of my husband. Carl came outside, holding a roll of paper towels. I almost wanted to laugh, because no amount of paper towels was going to fix this mess. He held Cale while I stripped him down to his diaper...right in the middle of Arvest parking lot. You'd think Cale had some kind of disease the way Carl was holding him (he was still in his work clothes and still had 30 minutes of work left) As I wiped my son down, I tried to ignore the passersby that I'm sure were wondering what we were doing!
So, Cale in his diaper, sitting on a paper towel-covered carseat, and I in my partially vomit covered hands and clothes, drove home with the windows down hoping that the fresh air would mask the horrific odor. It didn't.
Because we're lucky like this, halfway home a wasp flew into the car while the windows were down and landed in the backseat by Cale. I tried and tried to carefully get it out without making it too angry, but it wouldn't budge. So, I prayed the whole way home that the wasp wouldn't sting my already tramautized, half-naked, smelly, screaming little boy. Luckily, it didn't.
Mom had the bathtub full when we got home and I bathed Cale while she, clad in yellow gloves, set to work on the carseat. Twenty minutes, and some serious scrubbing later, things were clean once again.
Some days are just like this, right? Nothing that a little breakfast-for-supper, warm coffee, and our favorite show Lost, can't fix! Some nights I'm thankful for early baby bedtimes...even though I usually end up missing the little guy.
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