Yesterday morning I woke up my kids, as usual, for school. My daughter is usually sweet, if not a little groggy. My son, on the other hand, is a bear. He actually growls on occasion, more frequently than necessarily, frankly. But yesterday morning, he woke up, moaned, groaned and then shouted.
At this point, I was not completely awake yet. I felt all the blood vessels in my body constrict with stress.
"There's puke all in my bed." I see. It's going to be that kind of day.
Memorial Weekend was too much of a kid bender, I guess, with sleepovers, movie candy, donuts, fire pits, parties and lack of sleep. It caught up with him after eating dinner at a Chinese fast food restaurant in the mall with friends.
Let's just say I've now seen too much. I will never be able to eat the sesame chicken again.
If that wasn't bad enough, my son sleeps in a loft bed and likes to snuggle up in lots of blankets and possibly a couple of stuffed animals. I did EIGHT loads of laundry, including pillow cases tied up with stuffies. I then realized there had been a Niagara Falls of sick off the loft bed, with numerous Lego casualties. Have you ever tried to clean Legos? It's not as easy as you would think.
Eventually I just had to take everything outside, amidst my own crumbling gag reflex, and violently hose it all down, before I could even attempt to put items into my washer. The neighbors kept looking at me strangely, wondering why I was spreading a whole bunch of stuff out on the lawn. Picnic for imaginary friends?
How did he not wake up from all of that mess? I am constantly amazed by how my children can surprise me. I held my breath as I woke them up this morning. Luckily, no more puke. Just the usual growling.