WOLF! (Warning – vomit related post!)

This morning when I woke Ruby up she moaned and moaned about having a sore head.  I didn’t pay much attention because every day that I wake her up without my work uniform on she complains of some ailment in the vain hope that she will be allowed to stay home from school.

This is entirely understandable considering the glamourous life I lead – I mean who WOULDN’T want to stay home and watch me sweep and mop floors?

Anyway, she had some apple and porridge for breakfast, brushed her teeth, got her hair done, packed her lunch box into her bag then moaned some more so I gave her some medicine in the hope that it would placate her a bit.

We all piled into the car and halfway to school she barfed in spectacular fashion.  Stuck in the school run traffic, there wasn’t much I could do.  Ruby was crying, Alexander was threatening sympathy sickness due to the assault on his senses and I was desperately looking for a side street to turn down.

I turned into the next street and pulled over, Alexander leapt out of the car and ran across the road (it was a quiet road, thankfully) and I opened Ruby’s door to let the torrent of puke escape.

My little car is a veritable treasure trove of random objects.  We have numerous books, a cardboard cup tray, canvas shopping bags, two boxes of Christmas lights, a pair of crocs, a bottle of suncream, a coathanger, a box of cereal bars, dozens of used envelopes, a spare jacket and two Scottish flags but not a single plastic carrier bag!  I reached for the tube of hankies between the seats and pulled one out, only to discover it was the last one!  Perfect!

Using the edge of an envelope and Ruby’s emptied lunchbox I managed to clean her and the car up a bit.  We wheeched off her school dress in the middle of the street and she sat back in the car with just her jacket on.  By this time she was shaking and have the post-vomit remorse everyone gets when they’ve been sick.

I phoned school to tell them what had happened and that Alexander would be a bit late and then we continued on our journey.  Ruby sat in the front seat and, just in case, held the only non-puked on receptical we could find – a stubby holder (insulated sleeve for a beer bottle) – we’re just that classy!

I brought Ruby home, showered her off and packed her back to bed.I spent the next hour hosing off her clothes and lunchbox, cleaning my car and dousing it liberally with bicarb all the while berating myself for being a terrible mother who doesn’t listen and can’t recognise when her child is actually ill.

See, what a glamourous life I lead!

Bet you wish I hadn’t started blogging again now 😉

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to WOLF! (Warning – vomit related post!)

  1. Tracey Hand says:

    Awww poor Ruby. Get well soon.
    And poor Laura! Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve all done it!

  2. Yerda says:

    At least she recovered well. And now you will keep barf bags in the car. Main thing is it is nothing serious.

  3. sarah says:

    in these situations i refuse to take any blame whatsoever and push it firmly on to the child. as you title states – crying wolf is an unacceptable practice and it’s this type of event that teaches you life long lessons 🙂

    I sound terribly strict and grumpy. i’m not really. i hope she gets over it nice and quickly.

    • Yes, I am with you Sarah! I got over my remorse pretty quickly and reminded her that if she hadn’t been putting it on all those times then I might have believed her! I am not a ‘duvets on the sofa’ Mummy, ill people stay in bed, with the door shut and no technology!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s