Barfarama
Warning for the light of stomach: this post might prove offensive. Like all posts, I take no responsibility for your reactions.
Meg took Aaron to Sears on Friday to get his 4-year old pictures taken. While waiting for their appointment, Edward barfed all over the reception area (the diagnosis afterward was too much kool-aid too quickly). Aaron was ultra-cooperative during his photo shoot, so it went by quickly, but even so the mess had been cleaned up by the time they hit reception.
On Sunday, after hosting the missionaries for dinner, we were all sitting in the family/living room listening to their lesson, when Aaron decided it was his turn to puke. The missinoaries took it right in stride, noting that this was the second time this week someone had puked while they taught a lesson. Diagnosis: too much tickling by Dad.
Edward and I spent the last half of church sleeping in Bernice. I took Edward to nursery, but he was beligerant at the thought of me leaving. So he sat on my lap for a few minutes before venturing off to play with the other kids. But every time he set something down, another kids would grab it, and Edward would exert his physical strengths to win it back; this included screaming, hitting, kicking, and finally throwing the object at the kid he just stole it from. After seeing this happen three times, I stormed out of there with him and strapped him in his car seat. I ignored his screaming for about 10 minutes before he gave up all hope and went to sleep. When we both woke up later, he promised me that he would behave in nursery, but by the time I hauled his diaper-clad butt back to nursery, he was asleep on my shoulder. So I simmered in Elder's Quorum for three minutes before it was time to go home. It's easy to forget that it took Aaron a couple of months to get used to nursery, especially since he is so well mannered and looks forward to primary each week. But crap always seems stinkiest when its freshly flicked on your face . . .
Meg took Aaron to Sears on Friday to get his 4-year old pictures taken. While waiting for their appointment, Edward barfed all over the reception area (the diagnosis afterward was too much kool-aid too quickly). Aaron was ultra-cooperative during his photo shoot, so it went by quickly, but even so the mess had been cleaned up by the time they hit reception.
On Sunday, after hosting the missionaries for dinner, we were all sitting in the family/living room listening to their lesson, when Aaron decided it was his turn to puke. The missinoaries took it right in stride, noting that this was the second time this week someone had puked while they taught a lesson. Diagnosis: too much tickling by Dad.
Edward and I spent the last half of church sleeping in Bernice. I took Edward to nursery, but he was beligerant at the thought of me leaving. So he sat on my lap for a few minutes before venturing off to play with the other kids. But every time he set something down, another kids would grab it, and Edward would exert his physical strengths to win it back; this included screaming, hitting, kicking, and finally throwing the object at the kid he just stole it from. After seeing this happen three times, I stormed out of there with him and strapped him in his car seat. I ignored his screaming for about 10 minutes before he gave up all hope and went to sleep. When we both woke up later, he promised me that he would behave in nursery, but by the time I hauled his diaper-clad butt back to nursery, he was asleep on my shoulder. So I simmered in Elder's Quorum for three minutes before it was time to go home. It's easy to forget that it took Aaron a couple of months to get used to nursery, especially since he is so well mannered and looks forward to primary each week. But crap always seems stinkiest when its freshly flicked on your face . . .
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