So the other day, my daughter threw up three times. After teaching a full day of elementary school and picking up my children, we headed straight to Costco. (It was a necessary errand.) That was the first - so of course most unexpected - event of barfness. If I ever hire a house cleaner, I am going to look for Costco on the resume, because it was cleaned up in 24.3 seconds. To be graphic, it was as if they were mopping the first hurl before the last hurl was over. Moving on…
After teaching several private music students after his full day at school, my beloved husband headed off to a rehearsal and returned at 11:30. He was up with the sick child until 1:00. All this is to say, the day needed to end.
Of course this would be the night when the phone rang at 3:30 AM. Now, we have new phones, and they are currently way too loud. Have you ever noticed that cordless phones are designed to break at about one year of age, so you keep having to purchase new ones? We have gone through several phone systems in our marriage. This obnoxious volume nearly scared the pee-pee out of us, our hearts racing from deep sleep.
My first thought was the health and safety of our family members. Once I realized those were in tact, I would have hung up on the stranger. But I actually hear said husband having a conversation with the man on the other end, in disbelief. The man was saying, “Calling All Batallions!”
No really. Calling All Batallions.
My husband was pretty sure it wasn’t a prank (and it wasn’t), and images of national tragedy flashed in his mind. I mean, why are they calling all batallions?! The natural next move is to turn on CNN. At 3:30. A. M.
Guess what CNN was saying? It was snowing in the mountains. Can you believe it? Snow. In the mountains.
I relied on Lamaze relaxation techniques to eventually fall back asleep, and the alarm went off what felt like five minutes later. (Insert witty last line here, followed by a group chuckle, freeze frame, and credits.)
Bummer. Those are the days and nights you get to keep in your arsenal, so years down the road you can say, “That’s how you treat me? After I cleaned up your puke in Costco, and daddy held back your hair all night?” or something like that. Hope Camille is feeling better :)
And. What in the world does “Calling All Batallions” mean? Creepy. How do you know it wasn’t a prank? Jason seriously had a conversation with the guy at 3:30 in the morning?
When I called the number on our caller ID back at a more reasonable hour, the guy said that he was active duty military and that he was part of a drill that involved getting a bunch of people to their base at 3:30 in the morning.
It puts in perspective for me that it is a privilege to be able to be home with my sick daughter at 3:30 in the morning when there are Americans that have not been with their families for many months as they serve overseas.
2 other thoughts:
1. When I got to the gig and I related to some of my childless colleagues that my daughter was throwing up at home, they offered up a sense of “Aren’t you glad you aren’t wiping up vomit right now?” Actually, there was no where else I would have rather been. (And that’s not some lame, “Honey, if I could do the labor for you I would” concept, I missed my family more when there was a mini crisis occurring.)
2. Has anyone else noticed their ability to endure grossness skyrockets when it comes to their own kids? Camille has vomited on my face, and I did not throw her on the ground and shout, “SICK!” I kept holding her and felt bad that she was ill. In addition, I am not really that grossed out about my son’s poop on my own hands. I’ll just wash it off when I get a chance. After lunch or something. But then, I had to wipe dog sh*t off of my shoes the other day and I was gagging. Go figure.
Yup - the ick factor threshold goes way up.
Wanna trade? This morning at 2:20 someone knocked at my door. when I opened it there was a 270 pound drunk guy, lost and stumbling. He started to come in but I said he could not. I did not know him. I had him sit out of the rain on my front porch and went and got him a blanket. When I returned with the blanket he was vomiting all over my front porch. (sweet) about an hour later the cops and a car full of less drunk guys were going up and down my street. I stopped the car full of less drunk guys and told them their friend was under a blanket on my spew covered front step. (good times) The came and got him, I hosed off the front. Looked like he ate Chinese. BTW I would gladly stay up all night with a puking kid than that but to each his own.
wow - and you’re up at 6:40 the morning after?
Awesome story, Sharolyn. Sharolyn’s husband (what is your NAME, Sir? For heaven’s sake…), you are a very, very sweet man. I’m glad you shared your perspective.
I was thinking when reading, Sharolyn, how cool would it have been if they’d said “Calling all stations”? That’s got to be one of Genesis’ sweetest songs, and Phil wasn’t even the lead singer on that album - it was that awesome Scottish dude. No, you still wouldn’t have been thrilled…
I took time out from being sick yesterday to strip the boys’ beds and wash all their blankies and stuffed animals. Not wanting me to feel that such domestic duties are in vain, our three-year-old threw up far and wide in the middle of the night. I’m giving myself some mom points for letting my hubby continue slumbering through it all so that he could awaken at his usual butt crack of dawn time on Sunday to play all three services at our church. Given that I read this post and the comments right before I went to bed last night, my new, utterly illogical theory is that our son caught the throw-up bug via me having my laptop open to this story. So now I’m going to go find a post about Mike playing some gig and leave it open, next to myself, all night. By morning I should be able to play well enough to get enough gigs to pay for a housekeeper to do the nasty vomit laundry.
Just ask if they’ve worked at Costco.
June, I’m so sorry. That sucks.
June, I love how tragedy brings out the funny in you.