Mr. Mom Meets Tropic Thunder - Chunder Edition

This week I'm playing the role of Mr. Mom while Christine is out of town. I had elaborate plans show the kids a great time and do a little work at night, but Conner and Allison have decided, instead, to start a vomit contest. They're competing on volume, frequency and creativity.

Conner is taking the competition very seriously and went as far as to wake up at least once every 4 hours last night to add to his totals. Allison is taking a more measured approach, sleeping through the night to lull the judges into a false sense of finality before reentering the competition with all the vigor of an Olympian flu sufferer.

Last Night's Bedtime Ritual With A Twist

Around 7:30 last night Conner, in his most pathetic voice, asked me to read him a story in bed. Allison climbed next to him and Alex looked over my shoulder as I read Transformers Origins. For the first time all day there was quiet and everyone seemed at peace. But that peace would not last. What happened next happened in a span of 6 seconds. 

I turned the final page of the book and read "The End." Conner chose this moment to break the mood by hurling into a bucket with such volume and force that bits of partially digested crackers splashed back onto him. I instantly attempted to pick him up and head for the bathroom, but gave up as I realized there was no way to move him without increasing his blast zone. Then things got interesting...  

Allison started screaming. OK, I can deal with screaming I thought. Then the she added gagging. Scream-Gag-Scream-Gag-Scream-Gag. That's when the moment transformed before my eyes into a scene out of Mr. Mom meets Tropic Thunder. Voices in my head were simultaneously yelling "Irv, Clean up on aisle five!!!" and "Man Down! Man Down!!!" 

Still holding a retching Conner I executed an immediate field promotion. "Alex, Grab your sister and get her out of here!" But it didn't take. "W-W-What!?!" he yelled back in shock.

I swear there were sounds of gunfire and the acrid smell of smoke. Or was that the puke? Alex's desperate look of confusion was only surpassed by the increasing loud gagging sounds coming from his sister. The situation was moments away from turning into vomit duet that had the potential to cover not just Conner's bed but possible the entire room. 

"LIFT YOUR SISTER OUT OF THE BED AND GET HER OUT OF THIS ROOM!!!" I shouted. The fog apparently cleared because he jumped into action and carried his screaming, gagging sister out of the room. That was the last I saw of them until Conner was cleaned up. 

A few minutes later, I found Alex on the couch reading a book to his laughing sister. She didn't throw up until the next morning.


Conner and Allison. Buckets At The Ready.

Needless to say, we canceled our big outing plans and I didn't get to any work the first night. Today the kids have spent most of the day passed out except when they were actively adding to their vomit totals. Oh well, there's always tomorrow.