Parenting: I Just Don't Have the Stomach for It

I have the heart, soul, legs, back, and mind for parenting. But, stomach? Nope.

Last night, we enjoyed a nice evening. I went for a run while Heath and Lucy ran around outside. We came home, ate dinner as a family. Then, I cleaned up a bit and cut a few coupons while Heath and Lucy rolled all over the floor.

It was nice and simple, and enjoyable.

 - DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH -

I decided to finally put my post-workout bum in the shower and five minutes in.....

"Cori! Lucy just threw up. I mean larger than life!"

I peek my conditioned head out of the shower and there he is. He is covered in vomit. It is on his shoulder, his cheek, down his arms, and he's holding Lucy, also covered in vomit.

"Can you get out, so we can get in?

I only had one leg shaved and conditioner in my hair.

"Can I rinse the conditioner out first?"

"Fine. Hurry."

He runs back out of the bathroom, for I don't know what reason. I throw a towel on and hop out. He comes rushing back in. He is in the exact same state, holding Lucy.

He walks past me and I start gagging. I just can't do it and I could not believe that he was just, like, bathing in it and hadn't flinched a bit.

He throws Lucy in the tub. She is also unfazed. She is just excited to be getting in the tub and hadn't shed a single tear. I watch as he peels her clothes. He then peels his own, down to his underwear. He leans over and starts pulling......gag......chunks....gag....out of her hair. He picks some up off the side of the tub and throws them in the toilet.

I'm just standing there, gagging, shaking my head, and holding a towel over my nose.

"Do you want to give her a bath, while I go clean the stairs?" he asks.

"Um, yes!" Do I want to scrub it off the stairs? Absolutely not!

Apparently, he picked Lucy up to go to bed. When he was walking up the stairs she started heaving. She threw up a little on the stairs and he tried to catch/shield it. Then, he ran through the kitchen, making a trail, to the sink. Then she threw up so more.

Awesome.

He left the bathroom. Lucy was in the tub, with the water running, playing with a bucket.

I stood there, a good three feet away, watching her. Course of action?

1) Turn the air vent on. Gross...
2) Get myself clothed.
3) Drain the tub water and start with new, clean, vomit-free water.
4) Freak out a little bit when having to reach into the water to pull the plug.
5) Refill the tub.
6) Use toilet paper to pull out the remaining remnants in Lucy's hair.
7) Gag some more.
8) Steal the bucket from Lucy and dump water on her head.
9) Continuing giving the bath, like normal.

It was a late night, well, later than usual. Lucy seemed fine. I think she ate too many chicken nuggets - five!

Heath's comment about the whole ordeal, besides telling me what a good team we were at cleaning up?

"I don't think Lucy really chews her food."

"Nope."

Oh and my leg never did get shaved. I have to be careful how I cross my legs...I hide the unshaven one in back...haha.