VOMIT: an act or instance of disgorging the contents of the stomach through the mouth

I don’t clean bathrooms or take out the trash.  And I don’t do vomit. 

Okay, the one time Son vomited, I was a key player.  But, he’s my kid and that’s what I signed up for (my lawyers say I should have read the fine print of the motherhood contract my uterus signed).  But, yuck!  Despite my boundless love for him and my fear for his well-being it was still disgusting.   Give me a fever.   A room-clearing cough.  Sneezes that send snot down to the belly button.  But, please…no vomit!

At a party a few months back, a child vomited in the hallway.  I was repulsed.  The hostess calmly grabbed her cleaning supplies and went to work.  I quickly relocated far, far away.  I didn’t know the kid and I wasn’t hosting the party.  Score one for “guest” privileges! 

If that had happened at a party I was hosting, I really don’t think I could be that gracious of a hostess.  I would be more likely to yell, “Somebody help that kid!” as I plugged my nose and ran for an exit.  While I may be contractually obligated to deal with my own children when they vomit, I am certain I never signed anything binding that says I have to deal with someone else’s.  

Those who can, do.  Those who can’t, run away in search of fresh air.

Older “V” posts you may have missed: Valedictory; Vicarious


4 thoughts on “Vomit

  1. My younger daughter had some serious GI issues when she was younger and used to vomit about every 2-3 weeks. It really got to the point where I just had to not think about it anymore and fortunately, both my husband and I took turns cleaning it up. She even got to the point where it was routine for her. Thankfully, she grew out of it, but this went on from babyhood to about 7-8 years! For me, personally, I absolutely hate to throw up and will do anything not to. ICK.

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