Biscuit's belly

We established two new family rules this evening:

1. No more hot dogs EVER for Biscuit.

2. When Biscuit said his belly hurts, believe him and get him the heck out of the car ... IMMEDIATELY!!!

I bet you can guess where this post if heading before I even get started with the story.

We went to a first birthday party for a friend's baby this afternoon at a local park. We showed up about half an hour late because it was pouring rain, and quite frankly, we were having second thoughts about going at all. The party was at a picnic shelter, but with the wind blowing the way it was, everyone was huddled in the center of the shelter waiting for the rain to slack up. So the party didn't really get started until about an hour after it was supposed to.

The rain finally stopped, and someone lit up the grill. There were hamburgers, hot dogs, assorted bags of chips, including Munchos and Funyuns, neither of which I've seen in years. (Jeff had Munchos, and I had Funyuns. I think we both walked down memory lane then decided we could wait another 20 years before trying either of them again.)

Biscuit has eaten a few bites of hot dogs before, but he's never had a whole one by himself. Until today. He had a hot dog, a juice pouch, some chips and a small piece of a chocolate chip cookie cake. It wasn't the best dinner he's ever had, but there are worse things he could've eaten.

After some playing on the playground, some party games and some general running around, we left the party to head home. 

I didn't have any of the cookie cake, so after we left the park, I decided to drive to a local hamburger joint to get a milkshake. I asked Jeff and Biscuit if they wanted one. Biscuit said he didn't, and Jeff said he'd rather have a hot doughnut from the doughnut shop next door. So I got my peanut butter fudge shake, and drove next door to get Jeff a doughnut.

I placed the order at the drive-through, then drove around the side of the building. There were two cars in front of us and a car right behind us. I have no idea why that particular drive-through is so slow, but it is. At first, the waiting wasn't bothering me too much because we didn't really have anywhere to be.

I had heard Jeff and Biscuit talking while I was ordering, but I didn't think anything of it.

Then Jeff said, "Biscuit said his belly hurts."

And before I could even respond, Biscuit lost everything he had eaten.

I have no idea how that much stuff could come back out of his mouth. It was everywhere. On his jacket, his shirt, his shorts, his face, his arms, his hands, the top part of his legs. On the car seat. On the mat underneath the car seat.

And Jeff and I were stunned.

Biscuit has thrown up twice EVER before today (not counting a little spitting up when he was wee-tiny). So we were totally caught off guard. And Biscuit ... for the look of shock he had on his face, he may as well have had dragons flying out of his mouth.

We were trapped. We were still third in line with the other car still behind us. There was no room to pull out of line. We had nowhere to go. I slammed the car in park. Jeff got out on his side, and I got out on mine. We met at the back of the car. I lifted the back door and grabbed two bath towels from the cubby hole on the side.

Note: I always have a couple of towels and a blanket in my car. It's something my Daddy insisted on, and I can't tell you how many times it's come in handy.

Anyway, Jeff and I started to dab at Biscuit and quickly realized there was WAY too much ickiness to deal with in a doughnut shop drive-through.

The car at the front of the line started to move, so Jeff and I draped the towels over Biscuit and got back in. My mind was racing to try to figure out what to do.

"Okay," I said, sounding like I was fixing to explain the space-time continuum. "We'll go to the store right down the street. I'll go in and get a shirt and pair of pants, a box of wipes and some paper towels."

My feet were still wet from having to walk in the rain, so I sloshed through the store getting what we needed as my shoes squeaked with every step. And just my luck, they're doing a remodel on the store, so a lot of stuff was in different spots than the last time I had been there.

I finally got checked out and got back to the car. I was sort of wary about even starting the process, but when I looked at Biscuit, I could see in his eyes that he was looking to me to know how to react to the whole mess.

"Look at me," I said to Biscuit in almost a whisper. He looked up with those beautiful blue eyes, and I said, "Everything is fine. We're going to get everything cleaned up, and it will all be okay. Remember the song? Every little thing gone be alright?" Biscuit nodded his head, still not looking quite convinced.

I helped him out of his jacket, then told him to stand up. I grabbed him under his arms and lifted him out of the car. Jeff and I got his shoes, pants and shirt off. I figured he'd been upset about standing in the parking lot in his underwear, but you know what his concern was?

"Mom, if I don't have my shoes on, my socks will get dirty from the parking lot," Biscuit said.

"That's okay," I said. "We'll put all these clothes and your socks in the washing machine when we get home."

"And they'll be good as new, Mom?" Biscuit asked.

"Yep. They'll be good as new," I said.

We got his clothes changed and put him in the driver's seat. He pretended to drive us on trips as Jeff and I attempted to clean up the mess. Once we were finally ready to leave the parking lot, I cranked up the car and the signal light started blinking, and the windshield wipers were going, my headlights were on bright and the dome light wouldn't turn off. That's what I get for letting Biscuit sit in the driver's seat.

Anyway, we used half a box of wipes and about a third of a roll of paper towels, and there was still a mess. I took the whole cushion part off the car seat and put it in a giant bag. I had bought a cheap bath towel in the store, so I draped it over Biscuit's car seat in place of the cushions. We got him fastened back in, and got all the dirty clothes in a bag. We put all the wipes and paper towels into another bag, and we were finally ready to go.

We spent 40 minutes cleaning up. FORTY MINUTES in the parking lot trying to get throw up off of the boy and everything around him.

When we got home, I took the bags of clothes and car seat cushions straight to our bathroom. I used the massage setting on our shower to spray off everything as best as I could. I wanted to remove as much of the ... um, debris ... as I could before I put them in the washer.

I loaded the washer, and Biscuit and I took a shower. Jeff took the car seat out and sprayed it down with fabric freshener. Then when I got ready to swap the clothes from the washer to the dryer, there was lime green fuzz all over everything. The stupid cheap towel I bought had shed everywhere. I took Biscuit's jacket out and started picking the lint off. I quickly realized that was a losing battle, so I took the towel out and started the washer over.

But wait, there's more.

While Jeff and I were taking care of the laundry and stuff, Biscuit got really quiet. He was sitting on my bed watching TV, and I realized I didn't hear him talking. I ran into the bedroom, and he had thrown up again ... on my comforter.

Well, there's another load of laundry.

So right now, at 12:57 a.m., Biscuit is finally asleep, Jeff is dozing in and out on the foot of the bed, and I'm writing this post, waiting for the washer and dryer to finish cleaning the massive amount of things that have been messed up this evening.

Jeff hasn't thrown up since he got food poisoning in 1989. I, on the other hand, have thrown up a lot in my lifetime. I hope I don't embarrass Jeff when I say that seeing Biscuit sick tonight had him in a pretty emotional state. He was looking at Biscuit with tears in his eyes. I felt so bad for him.

Biscuit seems to be okay now. I'm hoping he just needed to get everything out, and he'll be fine tomorrow. If he has a virus, I'm not sure how Jeff will handle it.

We generally try not to let Biscuit sleep with us, but tonight, we wouldn't have it any other way. Let's hope we all get a good night's sleep and have a happier tomorrow.