I wonder if there is a Mexican equivalent to Murphy's Law. Or maybe there isn't, and Murphy just tailors his fuck-with-me type tendencies to my Spanglish life. Take tonight for example. After a day of nothing, I decided to dress us both and run out to Target for some Christmas decorations, since I seem to have left all of them in Michigan. We were doing great until about five minutes before I got home. Buttercup started coughing. A lot. She's dealing with a sinus infection and the poor kid gets smacked with the worst of it at night. Her coughing grew progressively worse while I raced home, praying she would wait to throw up until I had her out of the car.
I was *almost* home free.
"Cough, hack, cough, hack, hack, hack."
"It's ok, baby." I spoke into the rear view mirror. "We're almost home! Look, there's the house!"
"Cough, hack, hack, cough, cough." She tried to clear her throat, but gagged as I slowed to pull into the driveway. "Ok, Mama. Cough, cough, hack, hack, cough, ha..." And then it happend. Just as I was easing the minivan up the steep driveway bump designed to help water run off during the rainy season, she gagged one last time and lost all the contents of her stomach.
"Aye! Oh, shit! Aye Dios!" It was all I could say as I hurried to put the minivan in park, grab my keys from the ignition, and run out to her side to manually open the side door. I know my first concern was supposed to be Buttercup and her well-being, but since I know she was only throwing up from sinus drainage and nothing more, I was more concerned about how long it was going to take to clean the puke up after getting her in bed.
It was an absolute nightmare. She was covered in yuck and it wasn't until after she was asleep that I was able to assess the damamge. Little princess has a Britax Boulevard, and those bad boys are a pain to take apart and put back together, seeing as how they're made to stay in place once you install it properly. After an hour of scrubbing, Frebreezing, and getting the Britax reassembled with a new seat cover, I was finally able to breathe.
My first thought when I was all done?
"I miss the spit-up days. Toddler puke sucks."