Sickness Silly

Since yesterday's post caught most of my peeps off guard (and I don't know why it would because I always talk about gross stuff!) I'm giving you a warning that I shall again be discussing vomit - again.

**** fair warning*****

You still around?

Yesterday was a day of vomit... on the couch... all over the floor... Bekah never quite made it in the toilet. Not. Once.

*sigh*

So when she puked in her bed at 1am this morning that was my breaking point. I COULD NOT TAKE IT ANY MORE. I did what any good mother would do -- I woke up Steven and told him that he needed to take care of it.

Being the good man that he is, he did.

Bekah was whining and crying and carrying on. Steven put her in the bathroom to finish puking there. I could have told him it was a worthless move. We all know that she wasn't going to get it where it needed to go.

Of course, I would have missed this:

"Stand there... no there.... lean over the toilet... over the toilet!... make sure it goes in the toilet!... No, no, NO -- LEAN OVER THE TOILET!"

When Bekah was done she was crying about having vomit on her hand. Steven, who was stripping sheets at this point, told her to wash it off.

Um... that didn't work. More crying, more whining, some dribbling of water...

Steven marched into the bathroom and turned the faucet on full blast.

The next thing I heard was a very pissed off little girl. "Daddy, you made a mess!"

Peeps, I lost it. I was laughing so hard I had tears. I love that in her mind Daddy is the one making the mess.