Holidays

When puke turns your husband into Superman

Let’s set the stage…

Final night of camping. All 5 of us snugly squeezed into our tent.
Approximately 2:30 a.m. (because who really knows what time it is when you’re camping?!)
Suddenly I hear the rustling of a child. Then the splatter. Then “Ohhh nooo, I threw up! Daddy! Daddy, I threw up!”
And people, we’re not talking a little puke. We’re talking singe the nose hairs, burn the eyes, curdled apple pie chunks puke. If you’re not gagging reading that, you’re a SAINT because I’m having some PTSD just thinking about it.  Continue reading