5:45pm

It was dinner time.  It was dinner time on a Thursday - Bible study night.  The night that I was leading, no less.  And dinner was running late.  Okay...so dinner wasn't actually running and it wasn't late.  I was late preparing dinner and I was doing a little bit of running around the kitchen trying to get things ready.

The kids, however, were quiet, happy, and productively occupied.  This won many points, especially considering it was 5:45pm.  Anyone who has been around kids knows just how many points this peace and quiet was truly worth.

Then it happened.  My biggest fear in parenting - vomit.

Yes, the toddler threw up all over himself, the bench, and part of the kitchen floor.  And no, he was not happy about it...at all.

As an aside, if you are ever wondering how to clear a room in a hurry, just let loose an active puker and you'll see just how quickly a group of kids can flee.

Once the scene of the crime had been adequately cleared of extra bodies, I assured the unhappy patient that he would be alright and I ran him to the bathtub.  Of course, I couldn't leave the kitchen for long because I knew I had a mess to corral and I needed to make some quick decisions regarding how to go about such a task.

What I hadn't accounted for between the big kids leaving the room and the sicky being confined to the bathroom was the baby.  She was not in the kitchen when things went from miraculously serene to monumentally disgusting.  I actually don't know where she was or what she was doing.  I had, in fact, forgotten about her.  Terrible, I know, but I don't presume to be the only mother who has done this.

I also do not presume that I am the only mother who witnessed what happened next, but I can't say that I have heard anyone tell such a distasteful story, either.

The forgotten one made her appearance as I rounded the corner to the kitchen.  Apparently the baby had missed the memo about the recent stomach-churning happenings in the kitchen.  I found her crawling out from under the table.  Being one to scan the kitchen floor for little tidbits between meals, she must have been very interested in the big puddle of goodies her brother had just lost.

As she crawled into the open her wet hands, knees, feet, and especially chin and mouth gave her away.  She had indeed visited the vomit and sampled whatever she could find to put in her mouth.  She even enjoyed her snack, as her grin so clearly communicated.

Gross.  Just gross.  And yet, all I could do was laugh.

Now, you may be asking "Is this too much information?  Should stories like this be filtered from my web browser?"  Well, my friends, I spared you from this much, at least.  Notice that I have not shared any photos of the event?

You're welcome.  :)