Last week kicked Alex and my butts. He ended up only being at day care Monday morning and Wednesday until about 3:30. He was home the rest of the week. Friday morning I didn't even bother taking him in. He was coughing like mad and I knew I was going to drop him off just to turn around and pick him back up, so why add more germs to the Petri dish that is day care?
By Saturday, I needed to get out of the house. Our house is small and spending that much time in it was making me battier than normal. I had some errands to run and Alex was feeling good so off we went. The Target trip was successful. We headed over the mall because I needed to go to Barnes & Noble. I figured we could enter the mall through Dick's Sporting Goods so we could have the magical journey of riding the escalators and then go over to the book store. The "excagator" ride was as amazing as I had remembered it to be and then we headed out. Lucky me, the hall Dick's is in empties in to the middle of the mall right where the play area is! Yay!
Alex obviously wanted to play and he was feeling fine, so I figured I would just sit by myself, not touch anything other than the hand sanitizer station, and enjoy the time he was entertained by something other than my shining personality. All was great until I heard it. That cough. The one that usually induces vomit. I called him over and asked him if was gonna be sick. He barely nodded and then puked the 1/2 pint of blueberries he had just eaten onto my lap.
As if this isn't a horrible enough situation, I was immediately slapped in the face with the fact that we no longer bring a diaper bag with a full on arsenal of goodies for situations such as this. I had nothing. Nothing other than a lap full of puke.
The lady next to me jumped up and told me to sit tight and that she was getting stuff from her diaper bag. Don't worry nice lady; I'm not going anywhere. She came back with spare clothes for her daughter and told me they were super old clothes and that I could use them as towels. I was not about to use her daughter's clothing as puke rags, so I used the giant pile of wipes the nice lady also produced. I took off my hoodie and wiped up what I could into it. Took Alex's shirt off and wrapped that up too. At this point, the nice lady was obviously and understandably grossed out and was slowly inching her way farther and farther away from us. I took my puke-filled hoodie over to a garbage can, stuffed it in and shook it off the best I could. As I pulled it back out, bits of blueberry went flying all over the floor. I was so done with this whole thing by this point, I absolutely pretended I didn't see that happen and started to make our way out of the mall...wearing puke covered pants.
And, since he wasn't actually sick, Alex did not understand why we had to leave and he was pissed. So pissed in fact that he just straight up sat down twice in the middle of the walk way in protest. At one point, I actually looked at him and said, "I'm the one covered in puke, why are you the one crying?" I asked that because I am such a nice caring loving understanding mom. I finally just picked him up and ignored the screaming that he didn't want to go home and hauled his ass out of the mall.
So yeah, who wants to hang out with us?
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