This post was originally published on my primary Blog at Chrissy Adventures at WordPress.
Join me on my primary blog!
******Warning******This post may induce vomiting
Some people
are born with an iron stomach. They can eat anything, smell anything,
touch anything and seemingly nothing grosses them out. Others have a
very touchy queasy tummy and just can't handle disgusting smells,
tastes, or consistencies. These people have what we call a weak stomach.
Around here, we have a combination of both kinds ;-)
A few nights
ago, my husband and I were watching television in the bedroom. The kids
were off doing their own things (playing video games, doing homework,
and watching television in the living room). In the bedroom we were
watching Click. It's such a touching comedic movie about how much family
and time with loved ones means more than time spent at work making a
living. Here's how the last 2 minutes played out...
Just as Adam
Sandler falls to the ground outside the hospital trying to get his son's
attention we hear a tiny knock on the door. We ignored it, both
thinking once the kids don't hear us answer, they'll wait till the movie
has finished. Afterall, this is the touching part. I'm crying and my
husband is tearing up too.
Adam Sandler's son runs to him and the
rest of the family is surrounding him on the pavement, covering him with
umbrellas to keep the rain off him. We hear another tiny knock on the
door. " Surely, they can wait till the movie ends", we both think.
Several more tiny timid knocks on the door in a row...My husband jumps
up, cracks the door and says very quickly, "we're watching a movie. It's
almost finished. We'll be out in a minute, Okay?" He shuts the door and
sits back down. We finish the movie and Nick says, "Well, let's go see
what the boys wanted. XXX had a sad bewildered look on his face."
My
husband beats me to it. He's standing in the hallway talking to XXX (my
oldest son). "What's going on?" My oldest answers, "I got sick." My
husband cautiously walks to the other end of the hallway as if he's
scouting out new territory and peeps around the corner. "C H R I S S
Y!!!" He calls to me. About this time I'm in the Hallway on the other
end. There's about 15ft between he and I and I hesitate..."What?"
"OH my GOSH, It's horrible. Come here. Oh my...what happened again?" he replies.
"Great,
I guess I'd better go", I think to myself. I made my way to the end of
the hallway and I see XXX standing there with the most pitiful look on
his face. He's pale, sad, and dismayed. I also see a mop bucket and
smell the problem. It's nasty...it's vomit...with nasty chunks in it and
it's EVERYWHERE. I could tell he attempted to make it to the restroom,
but only made it to the door about 7ft shy of his target (the toilet).
It dawned on me that we put off answering the door to finish that
awesome movie about how important family is and in the process neglected
some family right here. How ironic!
"Why are you using a mop to
clean up chunks son?" I ask. Suddenly I hear the other two boys as they
peeked out the door of their bedrooms. From the distance I hear, "Hey,
yeah...we tried to help him. We gave him the mop and the bucket."
"What?",
I exclaim, "you gave him the bucket and mop, then abandoned him? This
has been here for at least 10 minutes. This is not fresh. You can't mop
up something chunky!!"
"Yeah, well, we don't want to get sick,"
another son replies as he speaks through his hand covering his mouth.
The bedroom door shuts and they disappear. I hear gagging from their
room.
My husband just stands there, mesmerized by the puke. Mouth
gaping open, trying to figure out how one person could vomit so much in
only one event. He even begins to scratch his head and mumble out loud
about it. "It looks like there's a dead chopped up body in the floor.
What did you eat XXX? How can one person do this much? Oh yuck, it's on
the walls all the way in here too. It stinks. Gross. What did you say
you ate?" He went on and on...
Rubbing XXX's shoulder, I say "XXX,
if you feel better now, please go to your room and lay down. I'll
finish cleaning this up." XXX goes to his room saying, "I'm sorry" over
and over again. "Don't be sorry honey", I answered his mumbles.
I
began gathering the supplies I would need to clean up the nasty mess and
my husband is still mumbling trying to figure out what XXX ate. At this
point I wanted to burst into laughter, but I was still upset with the
other 2 boys that knew very well the mop and bucket would just make a
bigger mess. Just as I had almost gathered everything I would need and
had removed the bucket and mop, I hear my husband begin to gag.
In my head I'm thinking, "Who wants Chowder?"
He
ran to the kitchen sink. He gagged over and over again, but didn't
vomit (Thank God! If he had, I would be cleaning the kitchen sink too.) I
began to remove the chunks and dispose of them.
About 1/2 way
through the chunk removal, my husband says, "Oh yuck, it's in the cat's
bowls. Just throw them away." I just kept on cleaning. "It's on the
walls Chrissy!" he says. I kept on cleaning. "Honey, LOOK! It's all the
way over here too! Just throw that rug away." I kept cleaning.
In
my head, I'm thinking "Who cares what he ate? Thanks for showing me
it's in other rooms though. Why are you freaking out?" He gagged a few
more times, but I must give him props, he stayed right with me until I
was completely finished cleaning the hard wood, the tiles, the base
boards, the walls, the toilet, the sink, the hallway, and parts of the
living room. He gagged, all three of the boys gagged, but we all
survived and no one else got sick!
All this I found comedic
because of the irony of the movie vs what my son was trying to tell us,
the younger boys hiding in their rooms and abandoning their older
brother, XXX gagging as he was trying to clean up his own mess, my
husband's odd chatter and wanting to throw everything away, and the
cat's reaction was funny too. He paced the floor for over an hour
meowing loudly because his precious food bowl and water dish were
contaminated! Between these boy, my husband, and this event - it's a
real wonder that I didn't go ape crazy!
I guess God gives mother's an
iron stomach to deal with their families daily. I just never appreciated
before how iron my stomach is.
No comments:
Post a Comment