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It was the week before Christmas break. Alex comes running off the bus.
Alex: “Mom, I threw up.”
Me: “Are you OK? What happened?”
Alex: “My head was hurting and people kept talking. I got some on my jacket.”
Me: “Poor sweetie. That’s OK, it can be washed. I’ll give you some medicine when we get home.”
It’s only a half a mile drive from the bus stop to home. This time; however, it seemed more like an eternity. As the smell of vomit quickly overcame the van, I rolled down the window to hopefully subside the smell. IT WAS NOT WORKING! Alex was even sweet enough to roll down his window AND hold his jacket out the window.
Alyssa: “Alex, what are you doing?”
Alex: “Putting the smelly jacket outside.”
Alyssa: “Well you better be sure you hang onto it tight.” That’s her Mother in her.
Me: “Alyssa, it’s OK. He’s trying to make it not smell. If he drops it, we can stop to get it.”
Poor kid! Obviously he doesn’t feel good and then his sister starts in on him.
Finally, home! I leave the van outside to let it air out some and I tell Alex to just throw his jacket in the washing machine. In the meantime, I see Andy running into the house. He has left his backpack in the van and the door wide open. Good gravy! As if I don’t have enough going on. I thought for a second that I need to holler at him and tell him to get back here and get his stuff. I decided, though, that I had enough going on and I would just deal with him in a bit.
I walked into the house and headed to the laundry room to start the washer. I pass by the bathroom where ANDY IS NOW THROWING UP! Apparently the smell was enough for him. I’m glad I didn’t holler at the poor kid.
As a parent, you often wonder what your kids will be when they grow up. You can’t help but dream of a world renowned doctor or a well adjusted celebrity of some sort. It’s easy to put your thoughts and goals on your child. You want them to be financially stable and in a profession they love. You want the best for them. Better than you had it yourself.
This is not the first time we’ve had a situation like this. So, it’s probably safe to say that my dreams of my kids being doctors are flushed down the toilet. Pun intended!
January 6th, 2010 at 2:23 pm
I don’t think we have any doctors either…I think my boys take after their dad…”he who passes out giving blood” He’s going to be a lot of fun when I’m delivering the twins!