I always feel like somebody's watching me.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Pasta anyone?

I fear that I am unable to make one of the families favorite dinners anymore. We all love baked ravioli and there is never much left over when I fix it. Big bag of frozen ravioli. Check. Big jar of marinara sauce. Check. Big bag of shredded mozzarella cheese. Check. Bake it and eat it. Check. Can't get any simpler than that. Right? Well, if I take into consideration the clean up involved after a four year old projectile vomits pasta chunks all over, I'm going to have to take this one off the "easy" list.

I knew it was coming, there is a groaning and whining sound that precedes the vomit. I had her on the couch, which I had protected with towels, and a bucket at the ready. I still wasn't ready for it when it happened, and she managed to coat her jammies, her hair and most of the towel I had laid down. But let me tell you about talent. The kind of talent only a mother of three has. I can hold a puke bucket and call my husband at the same time.

Why would I call my poor husband, while he's on duty, to come home and help with a tiny Linda Blair?

"Hey, we are at threat level Exorcist here, can you come home an help me please? Since you JINXED ME?" I didn't even give him a chance to answer before I tossed my phone out of firing range.

You see, earlier in the evening during supper, he had been talking to our oldest about her morning tirade. Her complaint was that she was SO TIRED from her younger sister keeping her up with her crying the night before. He pointed out to her that there would probably be other nights she wouldn't get ideal sleep. What if she had an activity that kept her up late or WHAT IF ONE OF HER SISTERS WAS UP ALL NIGHT THROWING UP?

As soon as the tiny one started groaning and complaining that her belly hurt, I knew I had been jinxed. It's always me. I am always the one being puked on, cleaning up puke, or holding the puke bucket. When the Universe handed out jobs, I got "puke monger". Some people are destined to be pooped on by every bird that flies over them. Some people are destined to step in every animal land mine they walk near. Me, I'm a puke magnet.

So, I guess I need to come to terms with my lot in life. Not a lot I can do about it except for maybe get a young priest and an old priest and hope for the best.


  1. Well that's probably the first post I've read about vomit. Also the funniest, though I suppose that's faint praise.

    I hurled laughter. Yeah, that's it.

  2. I threw up Wheat Chex when I was little and still can't bring myself to eat them. I also choked on Skittles at my 8th birthday party and can't even look at a bag of them without wanting to call 911:)

  3. I think we'll share this destiny. Darren sees the tiniest bit of poop or smells something like vomit, and he starts dry-heaving. The other day I showed him the lovely poop art Dominik made on Baby Brother's door, and Darren about vomited all over the hallway. Men are wussies.