About Doughnuts & Barf

He had been acting sick all morning. I saw the signs. First he didn't devour the pancakes placed in front of him. He only likes pancakes from what we have found- it's his only constant. Then he fell asleep in the car on the way home from the post office. Dude never sleeps in the car. No, he talks everyone's ears off until we can't take it anymore. Then he yells if we ignore him. He will eat in the car- this is the only known way to silence him in transit. 

He continued to yawn and bob his head around at the library, then flat out took a nap while I fetched the girls from Kindergarten. I broke my own never-leave-a-kid-in-the-car rule. (It was unseasonably cool, I assure you. I could see him at all times! Geez! I cannot cut myself slack on that one) 

He had been begging for a doughnut all morning. He saw them on the counter as soon as he woke up. Sadly, he didn't eat the pancakes in time to allow for a doughnut. Then I was just... refusing to give him a doughnut as a snack. By lunchtime, my resolve had weakened significantly. 

The boy had a SLIGHT fever, and had been hunched over a bag of goldfish crackers minutes before. I gave into his pleas for sugar coated carbs.

He climbed into his high chair. I sliced the doughnut in half and put it on a plate. (this was before lunch had been eaten. A full doughnut would have been too much of an indulgence) 

The second that plate hit the tray, Little man burst out in puke. At first I thought the tray would contain it. I was wrong. He spewed all over the floors, all over his uneaten doughnut. It was a mess. 

I yanked out the high chair tray, dripping. Washed the boy and plunked him on the sofa so I could try and contain the disaster. While I was on my hands and knees with huge wads of paper towels, forming a crude levee system, he was screaming at me to give him the freaking doughnut. He was red in the face mad at me for throwing the puke-soaked delicacy in the trash and denying him the chance of a secondary doughnut. He was so hopping outraged the only way to calm him down was to give him a bath, then let him keep his sippy in bed as he went to naps. (Sippies are banned from the upstairs entirely) 

He then took the shortest nap ever and demanded another crack at the doughnut. After having mopped the kitchen three times, I was unable to put up much of a fight. He didn't dare throw up that second doughnut. He didn't touch his dinner. But hot darned, the kid had his doughnut. 

So that was my day. How was yours?