vom vom vom

One of my kids threw up on Friday. We were just wrapping up a birthday party, when she ran out of the gym with her hand to her mouth. I knew the face she was making. It was the "Oh shit, I'm not going to make it" face.

Of course when I catch up to her in the hallway, she has puke stains on her vest and pants, and there's a Pollock-esque work of liquid art on the floor. How this girl had this much partially-digested food inside her, I'll never know. No wonder it exploded out of her.

After giving her the attention she needed, I cleaned up the mess, no questions asked. Hands and knees with little wads of toilet paper. Normally, I have a very sensitive gag reflex. I actually make throw-uppy faces quite often, to the chagrin of a certain emetophobe I know. But on this day, I didn't gag once. I was more worried about the girl. Does this mean I love her like a parent? I mean, good moms and dads don't fret about stinky diapers and vomit; they love their kids so much they just wanna take care of 'em. It's a weird feeling. If Korea changes my mind about not having kids, I'll be very upset. I had a great spontaneous and self-centered life planned out, and my little girl or boy is gonna throw a wrench in it. Well hmmph!

PS: This particular sample of vomit was no picnic. For breakfast the girl ate kimchi, and when she got to school, she drank two cartons of milk and ate a bunch of dried sardines (our school provides these as a morning snack). I can't think of a worse combination to taste or smell.