So we have our mornings down to an art. Everyone wakes up at six o’clock. We’ve been over this. I’ve told you. And if I haven’t told you, I’m telling you now. It is an exact science to get everyone fed, clothed, brushed, and out the door. This morning-the joyous feast of St. Nicholas-not so much.You’ll never guess how it started-but I’ll tell you.Felix came downstairs naked and woke us up about two minutes before the alarm went off saying, “I had to take my Iron Man suit off because I got too hot holding the puppy.”Let’s take a minute to stop and break this down. Issues with this statement:1.) It is 5:58a.m. He went to bed in pajamas. When did he put on his Iron Man suit? The world will never know.2.) Wait. Did he say “got too hot while HOLDING THE PUPPY”? Where is the puppy!? Because she poops as soon as she gets out of her cage in the morning.There was no time to lie in bed and analyze this further. We had to get moving to find the puppy-which apparently was upstairs where the Iron Man suit had been shed. This is when I find Gus standing in his underwear in his doorway. “I’m sorry, Momma, I threw up last night and forgot to tell you.”Let’s take a minute to stop and break this down. Issues with this statement:1.) Forgot to tell me he threw up? Umm….this is the kid who tells me every time he has a bowel movement. The kid who considers vomiting and having your arms ripped off by wild dogs the same caliber emergency.2.) Sorry indicates to me this did not happened in a contained manner in the bathroom or garbage can.I investigate further to find that he did, in fact, vomit in the middle of the night. He apparently did not get out of bed, but rather threw up off the side of the top bunk onto the floor. Lucky for us, the boys had every quilt, blanket, and pillow in the house piled up on the floor where they had been “making a fort”. So only about two gallons of vomit were on the carpet. The other eight gallons were nicely splattered on EVERY PIECE OF TEXTILE WE OWN.Still baffled that the child did not so much as whimper when this happened, I go downstairs to tell Cwas (who is innocently getting dressed) the situation. He takes over the vomit clean up and I continue to hunt for the incontinent puppy.While this is going on Felix discovers his loot from St. Nicholas and needs assistance in opening his candies and tiny gifts. Trying to not lose sight of the joy of the Saint’s feast day I take a moment to show him how his new flashing reindeer bracelet works. In the process I remember my mother asking me to “pack the boys snow suits and snow day clothes in case it snows”. (The boys are staying with them tonight.) I look at the clock. Ten minutes before they have to leave. Great.Gus asks what he should eat today since he threw up last night. And even though I’m certain that sleeping in a sleeping bag and getting to hot is the culprit-I try and be a compassionate mom and offer to pack him a bland lunch that will be easy on his stomach.Long story short; we got the lunch packed, we got the vomit cleaned up, we got the St. Nick treats opened, we got the hair combed, teeth brushed, clothes on, clothes packed, and I’m still washing clothes today. Oh, we found the puppy too.
“Why don’t you get a wash cloth and wash your face?” “No. I like licking the flavors.”