Surprise, Surprise! (Cilla Black eat your heart out …)

Family play time’s always fun.

The boys are big on the wrestling. Babu’s favourite thing at the moment is to sit straddled across either Ash’s, mine, or anyone else’s tummy who’s stupid enough to lie on the floor, and bounce up and down like he’s riding a pony.

(Poor grandad.)

This is fine; unless you’ve just eaten a meal. Then it’s not so much fun as a disaster of vomitile proportions waiting to happen.

Thus far, we’ve managed to avoid any ‘accidents’.

So after our little play, it was bath and bed time. The boys were both over tired (the excitement of getting some fish had got them all tuckered out). – Yes, we now have fish. Despite my crippling fear of all things scaly.

Babu basically screamed all the way through his bath then screamed some more while he was being dried. We played peekaboo with his towel.

(This was no easy feat given that I was trying to dry him at the same time and he was hogging the majority of the towel.) I then just gave up when he started alternating between laughing and sobbing.

Note: when babies are tired, they become hysterical.

Once dressed, he clambered on top of me, straddling my tummy and alternated between cuddling, bouncing or kissing me.

Note: Babu kisses tend to consist of him opening his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out and pressing his face against yours. Cute. And kind of gross.

Anyway, as I sat up to prepare for story time I felt a wetness on my ear and a bit in my hair. I thought nothing of it and just wiped it away – drool probably or his toothpaste?

Later in the night, I kept getting this strange smell. Sickly and sweet. I hadn’t emptied the bathroom bin for a few days – maybe it was something in there? No. Bedroom bin? Nope. Something under the bed? Nada. A lurking nasty in the kitchen? Nein. Leftover food kicked under the sofa? Nothing.

I asked Ash if he could smell it. No. And then it suddenly dawned on me.

“Is it me??!” I asked, realisation dropping on me like a bomb (a stinky bomb.)

What if that wasn’t just dribble earlier? What if it wasn’t toothpaste? What if it was *gulp* sick?

Note: you may or may not know this already, but poo I can deal with. Pee’s a breeze. Blood? Cinch. But sick – SICK?! No!! Judge me all you like, but I can’t even stand my own sick. Vomit is a no go area. Yuck.

And so Ash leaned over, had a sniff of my neck, my hair, my ear, and then pulled back, a look of amusement and disgust mingling on his face.

My child threw up on me. IN MY EAR!!

Excuse me while I go shower my head. Again.

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