|Squish, just hours before making family history.|
So, what happened this weekend was, as we told Squish, the second best family vomit story ever.
Or so I thought.
Because when I went to find the blog post to the FIRST BEST family vomit story ever, I found THIS POST which highlights the ORIGINAL family vomit story (the honeymoon vomit story) and I didn’t even GET to the time that Squish threw up on the dog.
But this one was still pretty epic.
So, we went out to the movies and saw Monkey Kingdom (yes, as I predicted, some monkey died) and then went out to lunch with Mate’s mom (who is an incredibly lovely woman whom I give thanks for every day). While at lunch, we noticed Squish didn’t eat much. “You okay Squish?” “Yeah, just not in the mood.”
We stopped at McDonald’s for iced coffee/dessert on the way back, and then Mate, in a fit of whimsy, decided to take the long assed way home with a stop at Great Clips for the entire family. (Fit. Of. Whimsy. I wanted a nap before taking Squish to her friend’s house–do NOT ask me how this happened.)
So, got hair cut.
I went last, because it took the longest. My hair had gotten pretty long, and the bottom was pretty fried between hair dye, pool chlorine, and old layers grown out, so I got it bobbed to my shoulders, and that takes a while. Squish, Zoomboy, and Mate were all sitting in the lobby, waiting for me, when the following happened (as reported by Mate):
Squish turned away from Mate and held her hands to her mouth. Zoomboy said, “Squish, did you just throw up?”
Mate said “THROW UP?” (Witness previous stories, vomit is his achilles heel. He does not do vomit, barf, or puke in any form.)
“Oh, Squish, do you want to go out–“
“Okay, here, let me get a trashc–“
“Let’s just go to the bathroom.”
Which is when I caught on, because they went hurtling back behind me to the bathroom. The stylist had LITERALLY just finished the last snip of my hair when I stood up and stripped off the cloak and started running for the bathroom. The poor woman was trying to blow the last bits of hair clippings off my neck as I ran. Because, as I’ve said before, Mate doesn’t DO vomit, and now he was stuck in the bathroom of Great Clips with a vomiting child and that could be all that was bad.
So I ran in there and sort of took over, and Mate ran outside to pay (“Make sure you tip really well!” “Oh my God YES!”)
And Squish threw up a couple more times and we wiped off the front of her dress and calmed her down and made sure she’d be okay to get in the car. She ended up wearing my gym clothes home because they were better than her poor dress that had been taken out.
We still don’t know what set her off– if it was something she ate or a bug going around–but she threw up again that night after I tried to feed her basic bread, and spent the next day in her night gown, mooching about and eating not much. But I do know this.
A. The lobby of Great Clips was WIPED OUT. There were two women with gloves and sanitizer spraying down the place, but she pretty much took out the entire rug. We felt SO BAD– Mate kept offering to help clean, which is a measure of both his greatness and our complete and total guilt for bringing this barfing child into their business.
B. On the way home, Mate and I started to discuss whether this vomit story had taken over the Zoomboy vomit story linked above, and in the middle of the discussion he rolled down the window and stuck his head out so he didn’t lose his cookies. I actually gave him one of the little plastic bags we use for dog poop, in case he had to blow chunks. Remember, folks, he was driving. The man does not do vomit–but he’s pretty great at heroic efforts, I will give him that.
So there you go. Adding to the family legend, we now have Squish, blowing chunks all over Great Clips– and Mate and I, asking ourselves if we can ever go there again. (I really hope we can–she cut my hair REALLY WELL.)
Coming out May 8th still, don’t forget folks!
And the Pushback– still going on at Diverse Readers— Go enter now!