Yesterday as we were leaving the Children's library with our weekly fix, I picked Ben up and he squished out the loudest fart I have ever heard. It caught the ear of a great many folk and in order to ensure them that it did indeed come from my son and not from me I said quite audibly, "Why, Ben, how nice of you to leave a blessing on the library." The librarian heard me and snarfed her Dunkin Donuts Large Ice Tea right out through her nose.
Then this morning, on what Daddy and I are now calling "Upchuck Friday" (if you recall, Emma puked all over my bed last Friday), Benny, standing on the carpet right next to the kitchen doorway, vomited his breakfast. I being the intelligent being I am, swooped him up and ran through the carpeted house to the bathroom where I held him over the toilet to finish up. I then stood him shivering in the bathtub all confused while I grabbed some kitchen towels and sopped up as much as I could from the carpets before it soaked in and stained (or the dogs licked it up). Daddy was on a work call in the bedroom and couldn't come out to help, so I kept telling Ben to "hang in there buddy, I'll be right there." He was actually fine with that still trying to figure out what the heck happened to him, but Emma was crying, "What's a matter with Benny? Why did he puke??" (Proving yet again she is madly in love with her brother...) Daddy finally was able to come out and he gave Ben a bath while I furiously cleaned the carpet. Thankfully the carpet is new and the "stain guard" is still active - it is now stain free, but the smell, people, the SMELL. I am encouraging all of you to consider stock in Febreeze as I seem to be going through it by the gallon these days! After cleaning I thought to myself, it sure would have been smarter if I had just snatched him up and held him over the kitchen sink instead of dragging him through the house...
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