Fast Food

My kid makes fun of me because I'm always feeding him very good food, no junk, and fairly grown-up things like broiled salmon, not some crap like chicken fingers.

On vacation, I loosen up a bit and last night we went out with family friends -- their five boys and mine -- to a local Cape fast food joint.

They call it fast for a few reasons.

It goes down fast but comes up even faster I learned last night at 12:30. I was dead asleep after lots of big wave body surfing and swimming yesterday. I'd fallen asleep next my son, as I often sing him to sleep.

I heard a gutteral coughing noise. Then he rolled over in bed and vomitted all over himself, he was lying face up, all over our two pillows, on me, on him, on 3 innocent bystanding teddy bears, on 3 comforters (big, hard-to-wash ones) and in my ear. Oh yeah, and in his ear. So I guess I mean, EVERYWHERE, now that I come to think of it.

It's dangerous to throw up lying on your back, so I quickly turned his head to one side -- towards me -- maybe not the best idea, but the safest, I had to see that he was okay and in the slightly dark room, it was a challenge.

Being a parent is a special honor on vacation. You never know what little test they will throw at you.

We're headed to the laundromat with 3 big black trash bags of comforters, pillows, animals, pj's, sheets. Later. Thank me for not mentioning the smell.