G was sick on Wednesday. She crawled into my bed and said she didn't feel good. She had a tummy ache and a headache. I told her to go lay on the couch and watch cartoons for a few minutes and I'd be up in a second. She asked if she could take the "barf bucket" with her, just in case. Of course I said yes! She took about two steps before she was throwing up in the bowl. Rob was asleep on the couch so he helped her out. And, I did what I always do, yelled from the bedroom "thanks for handling that! You know I don't do barf!!"
I can't handle it. Just writing about it is making my stomach turn. I can't stand throw up. I can't even deal with my own puke. I try to avoid it at ALL COSTS. I can handle a blown up poopy diaper leaking down my kid's leg but puke is a big NO.
I am very thankful for my husband who does handle all the barf in this house! He will come home and clean it up in the middle of the night from work. He's cleaned it from our floors, couch, beds, walls, EVERYWHERE! I am lucky to have married someone with such a strong stomach and someone that lets me say "I don't do barf!"
|Love this dude for so many reasons and especially for his ability to handle barf!|