so everyone in the family seems to have been getting over some sort of illness- none having anything to do with another, of course, and a myriad of symptoms ranging from vomiting, dizziness, fever, bronchitis, and exhaustion.
finally, I was able to get my own items organized, washed, folded, donated, etc. with the help of my loyal companion and under the scrutinous watchful eye of my sister when I decided to give Owen a cuddle for the first time in hours.
he projectile vomited first all over my sweater, letting the warm, slimy curdled milk pool in my brand new Patagonia corduroy lap, secondly, all over my rug and on the edge of the hardwood floors, and thirdly, all over newly dried and folded laundry. I didn't think this amount of liquid was capable of being housed by such a diminutive specimen- but there it was. and somewhere, off in the ether that is the universe, I could hear my mother's amused giggle- total paybacks for the many times, i'm sure, i'd done the same thing.
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