Better And Better

If you don't draw yours, I won't draw mine. A police officer, working in the small town that he lives in, focusing on family and shooting and coffee, and occasionally putting some people in jail.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Things that go gurgle in the night.

Back from class and some late-evening grocery shopping.

Family's already put to bed.

I do a little check-up of my favorite stomping grounds (mostly my blogroll, at right), and hear my younger daughter whimper in her bedroom. I start to close the comment I'm typing on someone's blog, and hear her step out of her bedroom, and burst into tears when she finds the door to the bathroom closed. I go to her, and do exactly the wrong thing: I try to comfort her.

As I'm embracing her with my arms, I notice a little vomit on the sleeve of her nightgown.

So of course, I do more of the wrong thing: I ask an obvious question. "Did you throw up, Hon?"

[In my mind's eye, I will later watch this memory as if I am spectator. And I'll shout at myself, "No, you idiot! Drag her into the bathroom and face her over the toilet. Run, you fools!" ]

My daughter, clearly in distress, nods violently, and then pukes copiously over the floor. Well. At least she got over the hardwood floors. Too bad we'd put a little rug outside the bathroom door. I take her into the bathroom.

Before she even reaches the potty, she runs for the sink. Good kid!

We do some of that for awhile.

I wash her hair and change her 'jammies, and change her sheets, and put her back to bed with a gulp of Pepto Bismol, or whatever damned brand I bought in an industrial-sized bottle. ("Now! With more pink dye!")

An hour later, after I've washed out the rug with the hose and some Spray 'N' Wash, cleaned the floor, and cleaned up the bathroom, she makes another dash out. This time, everything went into its place, and I even get her hair out of the way. (Flashbacks of my freshman year of college...) In a sudden blaze of inspiration, I find a hair tie and pull her hair back for the night.

This time I plop an empty trashcan next to her bed, with strict instructions to use it, should the need arise.

I think someone's going to have to hold off on getting to eat this evening's plunder.

_ _ _

Giving her the Pepto, knowing that I'd probably be seeing it again soon, reminded me of an experience that I overheard between my old college roommate and his unfortunate choice of a girlfriend, after she had consumed too much alcohol:

Her: I just need to throw up. I feel so sick. If I could just throw up, I'd feel better. But I can't.

Him, concerned: If you're feeling bad, would you like some of this Kaopectate, so you'll feel better?

Her: OhMyGawd, NO! I can't stand that stuff. If I taste it, I'll throw up!

Him: ...?...

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At Wednesday, October 31, 2007 1:55:00 AM, Blogger OK Katrina said...

Bless her heart, I hope she feels better soon.

I laughed out loud at your mental replay. That hindsight's pretty sharp, alright.

I was a live-in nanny for several families and I've had similar situations. One memorable one at about 2AM with a 1 year old who after taking out the entire kitchen floor, got me-all down my front, the couch, and eventually his dad. His lucky mom was an intern and she was on-call at the hospital and got to miss the whole thing.

At Wednesday, October 31, 2007 10:17:00 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I was mentally screaming "NOOOOOO! KICK DOWN THE BATHROOM DOOR NOW IF YOU HAVE TO!" from the middle of your third paragraph.

The child/drunk/dog always hurls twice. If not more.

At Wednesday, October 31, 2007 11:37:00 AM, Blogger Rabbit said...

Geez. Flashback time.

I ruined a good pair of boots with Pepto (and Everclear) back in college.

Burns your sinuses really bad on the way out, too.

Sorry she's puny and I have faith in your cleaning abilities.


At Wednesday, October 31, 2007 1:17:00 PM, Blogger EE said...

"Flashbacks to freshman year."

Hehe, very funny! Funny I should read this after Saturday night...

I hope your daughter feels better soon!

At Wednesday, October 31, 2007 6:18:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'll see your puke story and raise you another one!

Last week I took my kids to visit my Dad who lives about 45 minutes away. We went to lunch at the Olive Garden and had a great time. The kids each had a bowl of fettucine alfredo.

We're about halfway home when the younger says she has to throw up. Now, there's a plastic waste basket on the floorboards in the backseat because the elder is the one who gets the motion sickness.

No problem, I'll just reach back and grab the can and hand it over. Except I can't. There's this big upholstered cat tree in the passenger seat that's crammed up against my right side. It seemed like such a good idea at the time to buy the tree after lunch.

I'm able to eventually wrestle the can free as my daughter's gorge slowly rises. She gets round one into the can. But the odor sets off the other one. So they are passing the can back and forth barfing into it for a couple minutes until elder takes a few seconds too long and younger misses the connection.

Hokay! So, I'm driving down the freeway with a half-full bucket of redolent half-digested fettucine alfredo sloshing around in the back seat. I'm warning elder that she had better not let the damn thing tip over! Younger is covered in puke and has managed to get some on her booster seat and the car upholstery, too. Thank goodness that Honda scotch guards the fabric!

Oh, yeah, that was fun. But, to be honest, I had the same problem when I was their age. Only I tended to blow in the actual restaurant.

At Wednesday, October 31, 2007 7:00:00 PM, Blogger OK Katrina said...

Yeah, I had another puke story to raise with that involves Steak & Ale, a 3 yr old and a bread plate. But after reading tbeck's story, I fold.

At Wednesday, October 31, 2007 8:40:00 PM, Blogger Snigglefrits said...

Hope your daughter is better soon and y'all don't pass whatever bug it is round through the household. My crowd had that a couple of weeks ago, so I feel for you.

At Wednesday, October 31, 2007 9:27:00 PM, Blogger The Captain said...

Some years ago, when my eldest was about 10, we made her clean her bedroom floor. It took all day, but finally was completely clear, vacuumed, and mopped.

That night, she sat up in bed and covered the floor in barf. I measured - you could not see floor for five feet from the bed and splatters went farther.

Timing is everything.

At Thursday, November 01, 2007 10:26:00 AM, Blogger Sabra said...

Poor thing, hope she feels better soon.

Worst that ever happened to me was my nursling getting violently ill in the middle of a feeding, yarking all over me, herself, and the bed. Vomited breastmilk stinks even worse than you'd think.

At Thursday, November 01, 2007 11:23:00 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

The purpose of the Pepto is the make the throwup smell nice.


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