I remember the day we got our first dog, Mango, spayed. She was a big ol’ goofy rottweiler and the ride home from the vet combined with the after-effects of her sedation were not good for her. She ended up puking in my Nissan Sentra. Amazingly, from her perch on the floor of the back, she somehow managed to contain it in the cup holder in the center module.
It was extremely gross, but extremely easy to clean.
At least I assume it was, because I made Alex do it.
Lightning struck for a second time today.
I originally wrote a whole chronology of how I ended up in the car with a child I thought was faking being sick but kept home from school anyway after we’d already driven there, and then after I decided we were taking him home he practically skipped to the car, all energetic and full of vigor. But then I figured out how completely boring that is to anyone but me. I also figured out that I could give you the entire backstory in one run-on sentence.
We were on our way home from not taking Jack to preschool when he started to look blue and I pulled over hoping for a repeat of our last vomitous ride when I miraculously caught the puke in a sweatshirt before it got all over the car. But I wasn’t fast enough this time. While we were still moving he leaned to the side and sprayed vomit onto the seat between him and the carseat next to his.
I did park and try to help, but we were close to home and he didn’t want to move so I could clean the area, so we drove home and I took him inside before I took a deep breath and headed back out to the car. Because, really, he puked a lot. And then when he was done, he puked some more.
And because somehow he’d only gotten a smidge of it on his pants, and nowhere else on his body, I knew it was all pooled in the car waiting for me.
(I’d like to take this moment to ask if any of you ever thought you’d be responsible for so many bodily fluids that don’t belong to you? I sure didn’t.)
I got out my towels and did some cursory cleaning. But somehow I couldn’t find it all. There was some to clean up—mostly in the seatbelt buckle, because there is no harder place to clean. But I couldn’t find anything approaching what I had seen come out of my child. Where did it go? Is it in this here crevice? Is it on the floor? Is it under the booster seat? No, no, no.
This just seemed crazy. I know I saw him throw up and throw up a lot. I can smell it. Where? Is? It?!
Hey! Looky here! The cup holder on his booster seat is entirely full!
Like before: extremely gross but extremely easy to clean.