Well, if you clicked on the title, I guess you aren't thrown off yet. I just want to be clear. This story is about puke. So yeah. You've been warned.
Before I record the events of Winter's birthday, Sunday the 21st, let me mention a few facts that help paint the picture -
1. Mya is and has always been afraid of puke. We're talking about a legit phobia. She is afraid of riding in cars with anyone who may get carsick. She will ask anyone who feels ill if they are nauseous because she needs to know if there is any chance of vomit coming so she can vacate the premises immediately. If anyone in our family has a headache, she will ask them a series of questions to make sure that the headache is not the beginning of a stomach bug. And it often is. She also asks me if there will be vomit to which I always respond, "Mya I cannot predict the future."
2. I've never seen or heard of a family who has dealt with puke more than our family. Mya thinks it's God preparing her for motherhood since she plans on having 10 kids. But why do I have to be a part of this? It must be from Dan's genetics. I remember getting the stomach flu one time as a kid. Once.
3. Angus has never, in his 10 years, made it to the toilet in time. He contracts some form of a stomach bug around once or twice per year. And he's notorious for yelling things in between hurls. Things like what has caused the sickness like eating too much pasta or drinking too much juice. He also likes to yell things like, "WHHHYYYY!!!" or AAAHHHHHH THIS IS HORRIBLE!!!
4. There's literally nothing Dan hates more than someone who does not puke in the toilet. He has zero patience and zero empathy for a child who pukes on the carpet or in their bed. That includes toddlers. The older the child is, the madder he gets.
So, Sunday.
It was Winter's 15th birthday. We went to church to celebrate Christmas. Angus started complaining of tummy troubles at church. When we were home, he made lots of trips to the bathroom where he sat on the toilet for a while and asked for new underwear. YOU CANNONT BREATH A WORD OF THIS TO ANGUS. He'll find this blog when he's older and he'll be mortified, but whatever, it happens to us all at some point, right? Anyway, Angus was in the throes of a tummy bug all afternoon.
Around 4:00, Dan started preparing dinner. We always ask the kids what they want for their birthday dinner. Dan makes many famous favorites in our house. Winter requested rack of lamb with cheesy potatoes. So I went to Costco to get the lamb and potatoes. That's my contribution. Shopping. Dan always obsesses over his rack of lamb. It's never quite cooked the way he wants it, there are timers involved and he uses a special meat thermometer. One that he sticks in the lamb multiple times to make sure it gets exactly where it needs to be.
So, we were ready to eat, the lamb was cooked to perfection, the potatoes looked amazing and sparkling apple cider was poured for all. (There was also asparagus and mushrooms for nutrition) We all sat down and began to eat. About 5 minutes into dinner, Angus asked if he could just go upstairs and go to bed. I told him to wait a few minutes so we could go around the table and each say what we love about Winter. We do that on birthdays. I'm actually glad I didn't let him go upstairs because we recently put in new carpet. And maybe, subconsiously, I was protecting it.
Then, without any warning, Angus sprang out of his chair and ran through the kitchen and toward the stairs. (The newly carpeted ones)
By the way, there is a bathroom about 5 feet from the dinner table. I know, it's not the best place to put a table, or a bathroom but that is in fact where the downstairs bathroom is. Ideally, Angus would have gone in there to projectile vomit.
But he, instead, chose to do that on the new rug in the family room where the dog was also innocently minding his own business.
I ran over to my poor boy and hurriedly guided him back to the bathroom by the table to finish the job. It all happened so fast, but from what I can remember, Dan was yelling something, I was telling Angus to kneel down so he wouldn't get puke everywhere, but he refused yelling that he couldn't breathe, and also that he was going to die. He's always been dramatic. I was giggling as I was telling him he was going to be okay.
Meanwhile, the rug, the dog and much of the kitchen floor was covered in Angus's dinner, what he ate of it.
Dan was yelling, "GOSH DARNIT!" over and over again because he really tries not to cuss at home or take the Lord's name in vain. I was impressed because he was really mad and managed not to let any bad words come out.
Mya was sitting at the table, plugging her ears, closing her eyes and yelling LALALALALALALALA!!
Winter continued to quickly eat her lamb fearing that she wouldn't get to finish. And Addie just sat there not really wanting any more food but not really knowing what to do.
And that's pretty much it. We were all done with dinner, except for the birthday girl. Dan was pretty mad that the lamb he devotedly prepared was not even a little bit appetizing after watching it come back up all over the floor... and the dog.
Dan and I cleaned everything up. He was red with anger and I was laughing at the sheer chaos and hilarity of it all. How did I get a kid who is terrified of puke, a kid who pukes anywhere BUT the toilet while simultaneously yelling things, and a husband who loses his mind every time this happens?
Angus was upset about puking on the dog more than anything. I told him that the dog did not care at all. He's a dog. He routinely sticks his face in people's crotches, licks our feet and eats plants.
The good news is, as I type this, Dan is at work and Winter and Addie are happily eating leftover lamb and potatoes, something that has never happened before. There is never leftover lamb. It has always been devoured in minutes. Poor Dan.
Here's a recent picture of our cute family.
