The Deflector Sheild is Down!
“You know,” said my wife Sunday, “I think we can probably remove this now.” She gestured at the blanket that has, for months, protected the hand-woven rug in our living room from the once-frequent regurgitative assault of our daughter. “She hasn’t spit up in…geez…over a month.”
I was reminded of this conversation this morning as I sopped warm, rejected milk from the rug.
My daughter’s devious patience scares me.
5 comments:
I don't think that sense of terror ever really goes away. As a parent, I'm convinced the key is to present a stoic facade to your progeny, that they will never know the full effect their subterfuge has on you. Today it's warm, bilely milk. Tomorrow it'll be a promise to be careful with the car and not smack it up... again.
Keep the silent yellow alert on at all times, and never let the red alert klaxon blare out loud -- it'll only serve to warn them!
HA! That made me laugh. And, oh yeah, fight the power, or the regurge anyway...
Ha! Short posts sometimes are the best.
We were so fortunate on this front that I have nothing relevant to say.
Ben never spit up even once, and has thrown up only once (after a very curvy car ride that induced motion sickness).
I can, however, sympathize with you on a precious belonging getting splattered (but ours was a cherry table getting hit with hot candle wax).
Si - Yes, the "Children are a pack of wolves who have invaded the home...don't let them smell your fear" style of parenting ;)
Alvis - We're fighting. And for the most part, that war is over. There are still a few gastric guerillas hiding in the foothills taking pot shots at our floor's defenses. But in general, the level of bile violence has decreased to an acceptable level.
Mark - No spit-up at all? That's just not hardly fair. How did your co-workers know you had an infant at home if you didn't occasionally show up with a cute little badge on your shirt?
I keep trying to remind myself to do more short posts like this. But I put it off and put it off and then enough time has elapsed that posting just a short quip seems like a cop-out. So I end up typing out a huge meandering post and the cycle repeats itself. I like the idea of a schedule, Wordless Wednesday and such...but obviously lack the discipline to make it happen ;)
Xavier's not a spitter either. No drool, not even a burp after milk, no matter how long my mom pats him on the back. We did, however, have to remove the straw rug in the living room upstairs, because he was always putting it in his mouth, which seemed a little gross.
I'm impressed by *your* patience with having to endure a blanket on the floor for months, but I guess necessity is... necessity.
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