...throw up your egg lunch all over the US Ambassador's annual Christmas Party. Seriously, not the merriest of experiences, but exactly what young Master Luka managed this evening at 1800. Things were going super, he was once again a main attraction with smiles, cuddles and more smiles abound. Mommy sang in the Community Choir, then stopped to have a cold beer afterward. Daddy decided that Luka looked a little hot in his stroller, so removed him - and then it happened. Poor guy just opened up and barfed* egg everywhere over the floor of the outdoor veranda area. Needless to say, we were dumbstruck and immediately concerned. Chris had the wherewithal not to move him, rather holding him like an outstretched rugby ball to finish his business in a neat pile, before I swooped him up and charged indoors to bring him into the cool airconditioned air, just as he blew another load, right down my front (but thank heavens I missed the ambassador's rug!)
I wiped Luka down with cold water on one of the lovely white terry cloths in the Ambassador's guest bathroom, and cleaned myself up some too. I decided best we head back out and make our leave gracefully or else someone might be concerned, or just deem me rude. So here we were, Luka covered in egg-flavored puke, and myself looking like I had just participated in the Embassy's annual wet t-shirt contest, not carol singing.
We said our goodbyes, a few fellow parents commiserated mostly by reminiscing about their own offspring's most inappropriate reverse digestion. Ah, parenthood.
At home, it was a bath, followed by a breastfeed, some more vomiting, some sheet changing, some more breastfeeding, some more vomiting - before mommy and daddy finally figured out just to put him to bed with an empty stomach.
So, at 21h00 we're off to what we believe will be a rough night with the young man. Don't worry - we're armed with a flight schedule and emergency private number for a doctor in town, just in case.
* Did you know that there are apparently 339 synonyms for 'puke' on this website. Hopefully Luka does not make a habit of it and I won't have to learn all of them.
I wiped Luka down with cold water on one of the lovely white terry cloths in the Ambassador's guest bathroom, and cleaned myself up some too. I decided best we head back out and make our leave gracefully or else someone might be concerned, or just deem me rude. So here we were, Luka covered in egg-flavored puke, and myself looking like I had just participated in the Embassy's annual wet t-shirt contest, not carol singing.
We said our goodbyes, a few fellow parents commiserated mostly by reminiscing about their own offspring's most inappropriate reverse digestion. Ah, parenthood.
At home, it was a bath, followed by a breastfeed, some more vomiting, some sheet changing, some more breastfeeding, some more vomiting - before mommy and daddy finally figured out just to put him to bed with an empty stomach.
So, at 21h00 we're off to what we believe will be a rough night with the young man. Don't worry - we're armed with a flight schedule and emergency private number for a doctor in town, just in case.
* Did you know that there are apparently 339 synonyms for 'puke' on this website. Hopefully Luka does not make a habit of it and I won't have to learn all of them.
No comments:
Post a Comment