When I Throw Up, I Wanna Be Just Like Dad!

Warning: This blog is written by a mom of boys, and as such, will contain barf, boogers, and bathroom humor. If you have a weak stomach, you may not want to read this post.

Ah, the first sick day of the year. DSguy stayed home from school today with a fever and a strange smell emanating from his room. To put it bluntly, it smelled like puke. It even looked like there could have been a hurling incident. The mystery is, DSguy himself doesn’t remember throwing up.

Wouldn’t most people remember hacking up their guts?

Maybe he barfed while he was asleep. (I’ve seen someone do that before. It’s really rather disgusting.) Maybe he just spit out liquid medicine and doesn’t remember doing it. Acetaminophen isn’t particularly tasty. Could have been an involuntary gag reflex. Perhaps the Upchuck Fairy thought it was Christmas and left him a special gift. Who really knows?

Stranger things have happened.

Like the time The Man got the flu. Hoo boy, was that an exercise in creative cookie tossing! He threw up so violently that it came out his nose.

The Man is rather inexperienced with the whole retching thing. He can count on one hand how many times he has thrown up in his entire lifetime. It takes all of my fingers and most of my toes to count how many times I barf in one bout of illness.

So The Man is in bed filtering his vomit through his nostrils, and I hear a horrible man-scream. “AAAAAAAAGHH! Honey!” Now The Man is not one to screech like that unless there is a potato bug involved, so I came running. What I found was—well, I’ll spare you the Technicolor details.

Poor DSguy. He and Monkey Boy both got my proclivity for pukeage. Maybe they’ll grow out of it and they truly will be like Daddy when they throw up.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m getting nauseous.