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Saturday, February 2, 2008

Worst experience as a parent

Last night Mrs. Big Guy was on work release and had a night out with the girls. What does that mean?

Zone coverage. No longer was I in the comfort of man to man D against the terrible twosome, but guarding them in a zone scheme.

For the most part, the D was tight. There was little squabbling over toys, a couple requests for juice and milk. I let both kids go into overtime in terms of their bed time. I have been getting home late from work and they have been going to early so I wanted to play with them.

So, the clock expires and they hit the sack. I am on the couch drifting in and out while watching the late news cycle.

Then the fun begins.

I hear the oldest coughing. Not just any cough but a something is wrong cough.

I go upstairs to find out what's wrong.

She's sitting up in bed and hurled all over the place.

Great.

I get her downstairs, clean her up and put her on the couch. She falls asleep.

I go upstairs and proceed to clean up the puke, change the sheets and blankets.

Little one remains sleeping, which is clutch.

I finish up and grab the oldest to put her back in bed. We get to the top of the stairs and she hurls on me and all over the floor.

Great.

I bring her back downstairs, clean her up again and change her into her third pair of pajamas. I clean up crime scene number two. Little one remains sleeping.

This time I put the oldest in my bed and crash with her. Things are going just fine until she starts to toss and turn. She starts to cough and guess what?

Yep, puked.

This time it's all over my bed, me and her. I pick her up almost puking myself because now the entire second floor smells gross. She then pukes at the top of the stairs. Big time.

Great.

This time the little one wakes up.

Even better.

It's about 1 am and the wife isn't picking up her cell.

Mutha f@cka!!!

I am now in panic mode and bullshit.

I bring the oldest downstairs and throw her in the shower. The youngest screaming her head off. She wants out of the crib.

I clean up the oldest and get all the cloths in the laundry. The youngest now has massive snot face from crying. I am still cleaning up puke.

Finally, the garage door opens and the wife is home finally. She comes in and everything is in disarray. One kid is on the couch, the other crying her head off. I am aggravated.

Finally, everything is cleaned up. The wife takes the puker with her on the couch, I take the youngest in bed with me.
We all finally get to bed at about 3am.

The experience has been dubbed puke fest 2008 and just about the worst experience I've had as a parent.

Good times. Builds character.

2 comments:

Not Whitey Bulger said...

What, no poop? Consider yourself lucky.

Lyss said...

I hate puke. I cry when I throw up. This makes me never want to procreate. (Thanks for the warning about what I might encounter in parenthood).

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