Monday, Oct. 07, 2002 + 7:59 p.m.
I would say a vomitorium, but I recently discovered that the word refers to an entrance/exit to a theatre or auditorium that comes out in the middle of the seats. Imagine that! It would be so much more fun if it actually referred to a room for vomiting. I think I�ll use it ANYWAY. I live in a vomitorium. Yes, it�s true. For the last 27 hours my cottage has been transformed into the most foul, wretched-smelling, funk factory you could ever imagine. The laundry has been going non-stop due to my daughter�s inconsiderate choice of puke-upons. So far, we�ve been through a Nissan Pathfinder, two car seats, 11 tee-shirts, 4 blankets, one comforter and a bathroom rug. I�m afraid the dog will be next. I have managed to stay out of the firing line thus far, but I�m knocking on wood. It�s only a matter of time. The spewage began as a partially digested grilled cheese sandwich and a Hi-C. It could have been much worse, I keep telling myself. It could have been spaghetti. After the grilled cheese was gone, there was only water and bile, but the smell is nonetheless pungent. The bad thing about that stuff is that it eats holes in the floor if you don�t get it up in like 2.4 seconds. It�s like friggin� battery acid. I�m surprised the kid still has flesh on her arms and chest. I didn�t have time to finish cleaning one mess before the next one was upon me. Not literally, of course, but you know what I mean. My husband has been almost no help at all because while he�ll do poo, puke is another animal entirely. It�s as if he�s been instructed to EAT it or something. He makes this face and gets all gaggy and runs with whatever is soaked with it until he can fling it into a tub, sink or driveway. Believe me, it�s an image you could do without. I was truly afraid that our daughter might be the next thing flung God knows where. So, I�m back to the laundry until we are successful choking down a blue popsicle without getting a second viewing. It�s going to be another looooong and stinky night.
|
I am the Grim Reaper! Master of all that is |
