Thirteen Years and Bleh....

Mr. Clean and I had the opportunity to actually head out, ditch the five little ones and go out to a restaurant with cloth napkins and no Happy Meals. It rocked. My friend Elisabeth watched the kids and it would have gone off without a hitch except...

Not long after we left, K.Z. threw up. A couple times. And he did not make it all the way to the bathroom. He had complained that his stomach hurt right before we tucked him into bed (we opted for a late dinner), but he has a sensitive stomach and it bugs him every once in a while. He pretty much never gets sick over it however so he assumed he would drift off to a peaceful sleep.

My friend Elisabeth is a mother and a compassionate human being, but she has one small beautiful little girl, who when hurls, hurls like a small, beautiful little girl. Not like an 8 year old boy who had Bagel Bites for dinner. The woman should win the Nobel Peace Prize for, a) helping clean up my son and his mess, b) not running, screaming from the house and, c) for not wanting to ruin our dinner by calling us.

When we got home, K.Z. was tucked away in his bed, all vomit had been eradicated from my bathroom floor and the towels had been washed. I do believe the woman is a saint. Elisabeth went home probably never wanting to step foot back in our crazy house!! And it did get a little crazier that night as the hurling intensified with C'sa adding to the fun, and neither she or K.Z. sleeping at all last night. I even made a pallet of blankets and pillows for K.Z on the bathroom floor (his) so when he threw up every 20-40 minutes, he did not have to go far. Needless to say, EVERYTHING was washed and sanitized today, including K.Z. and C'sa.

Here in the part that screams with irony. Our house was a mess. The kind of mess that you will not even answer the door for the UPS man in fear that he may catch a glimpse. No worries though, as most of it was delegated to mine and the kids' rooms so it could be safely hidden.

Except that K.Z decided not to puke in HIS bathroom, but mine. Behind the door hiding the many laundry baskets of folded and unfolded clothes waiting to be put away. Behind the door hiding the big box of Christmas wrapping paper spread out on the floor. Behind the door hiding the piles of books on my dresser that have still not been put away. Behind the door hiding the carelessly thrown shower towel and (gasp!) pair on underwear I left on the bathroom floor.

I just about died from embarrassment when I realized that not only did Elisabeth get to clean up vomit from my floor and son, she got to do it amongst all that glory that was my bedroom. Now I know she will never come back!

It humbles me to no end however to have a friend who would be willing to go through all that, and still put our needs first. She did not want to ruin our night out as a couple celebrating our sacred union and was willing to serve us and our son in an amazingly unselfish way.

Thank you Elisabeth.