Home Sweet Home. Not.
I’ve been holed up here for three days straight with a sick kid. I’m trying to see the bright side, but I’ve only come up with one so far. She is not vomiting.
I hate vomit. I hate fake vomit too. I hate kid vomit the most. A big reason I hate kid vomit is because kids never have a clue they are about to ralph all over you. There is no early warning system, no tell-tale signs, just a fleeting bug-eyed look of astonishment before your shoes are covered in muck. What I really need is a Hazmat suit.
The problem with kids is when they are sick, they want to attach to you like leeches. The child who can barely stop for a quick hug is now glued to your side with a 103 degree fever. So I have learned to think in terms of collateral damage.
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