The other night Sam barfed all over my shoulder. Normally I would call it "spit up" because it's all formula and comes up within seconds of him drinking a bottle, like a "whoops! Went passed the fill line...this specific ounce cannot stay." But this time, it was long enough after he drank a bottle that it wasn't just formula anymore. It was partially digested already and curdely and nasty and therefore can be classified as barf. And it was all. over. my shoulder.
So I held Sam at arm's length to avoid squishing the barf deeper into both of our clothes and hopefully keeping it out his ear. Seriously, I don't get it. That kid will spit up/barf on my shoulder and immediately rub his head in it. I mean...what? Why would you do that? It's wet and it stinks. That is a combination that should quickly let you know specifically not to rub your head in it. Maybe he's been spending too much time with Aiden.
Aaaaaanyway, I had him at arm's length and was lovingly telling him he was a gross baby. And with that, Alex piped up and scolded me, "Moooom! He is not a gross baby! He is a cute baby!!"
Ah, brotherly love.
No comments:
Post a Comment