What’s grosser than gross? Do you remember those little jokes from when you were in school? Well, my friends, today, I finally have the answer! Yes, I know what is grosser than gross!
Backstory: All morning Jeffrey has been working on making a Blue Angel jet from a very complicated set of Legos (read: many tiny little pieces that move and spin and do things). He completed it all by himself, and is understandably proud of his work.
For some unknown reason, I decided I would go to Home Depot today before I took Jeffrey to school, to pick some paint for the baby’s room. Trying to make forward progress, no matter how small, seemed like a good idea. The kids had not eaten, so I drove through the conveniently placed fast-food establishment in the Home Depot parking lot. Excellent- they are happy, in the cart, chomping away on french fries and chicken doo-dads, and I can pick paint out in peace. ( Do you have any idea how many choices there are in colors??) My head started to spin, and I ended up walking away with nothing, due to my inability to even decide on yellow or green or pink, let alone the 17,000 variations of each color. No paint, maybe another day.
After picking up a few small things we needed, we loaded back into the car, and head towards Jeffrey’s school. As he is getting out of the car, he asks Eric to watch his Lego jet and take good care of it while he is at school. We won’t go in to the lack of wisdom in that charge, but whatever. Eric is holding tight to the precious jet, and we head home so he can nap and I get my bi-weekly break.
We are almost home, when Eric starts to whimper from the backseat. Now, while Jeffrey is melodramatic, Eric seldom complains, so when he makes noise about his tummy, I know he means business. Just as we are pulling in the driveway, he cries, “Mommy, BARF!” and proceeds to violently throw up all over the backseat, himself, the carseat, the back of my seat, my hair, and the very complicated and many-pieced Lego Blue Angel Jet.
You all know what the last 7 or 8 months have been like for me, and this morning was especially tender- so I am now gagging at the smell, and I jump out of the car and open all the doors, and pull poor little Eric from his seat, while he is still heaving. The rest of it goes on the driveway, and the poor little guy is crying and confused and obviously feeling like crap. My hands and shirt and hair are covered in Eric-barf, and I am trying to hold my own cookies down. On the back porch, I stripped him of his wet clothes, despite the 35 degrees, and hustled both of us in the house, leaving a trail of barf and clothes, like a sick Hansel and Gretel.
Poor baby- I felt so bad for him, and got him cleaned up and tucked into bed before I went back to clean up the mess and myself. The carseat required complete disassembly in order the get all the nasties from the straps and crevices, I am seriously considering just tossing the clothes, and me, well I just went and barfed in my bowl, then went about my business. Thank goodness for Febreeze, is all I can say right now.
So, back to my original question, what is grosser than gross? Imagine a Lego, the beauty of a brick, with it’s dimples and hollows. Imagine a very complicated and many-pieced Lego Jet. Then imagine washing french fry/chicken doo-dad/milkshake barf off the hundreds of pieces, and having to dig the, um, chunks, out with a toothpick from all the teeny, tiny little holes in all the teeny-tiny little pieces. That, my dear friends, takes the grosser-than-gross cake.
Oh, yeah! Some days, motherhood totally rocks.