Sunday, 10 February 2013

Week 75- police, wet T-shirts and stinking on buses

The only thing worse that seeing a child projectile vomit when in a cafe, is holding a child while they projectile vomit in a cafe.

Nancy’s had a cough for yonks, the downside to hanging out with other kids at the childminders. It doesn’t seem to bother her, but it would drive me nuts.
I’d gone to meet a friend for a coffee in one of the three pram friendly cafes in town.

I’d already been to this particular cafe the previous day, and spent the best part of two hours eeking out a two quid coffee, so I’m sure they were delighted when short-arms, long-pockets turned up again, bang in the middle of their lunchtime rush.

Nancy had her lunch. By ‘had her lunch’, I mean, chucked grated cheese everywhere.
Another plus for the waitresses.
Then had her milk, and went to sleep in her pram. Great stuff.

Turns out, one of the waitresses did an internship at my work, so we had a chat about how she’s decided not to go into writing, but joining the police force instead. Fair dos.
About five minutes later, Nancy started coughing in her sleep.

And a minute later she started to splutter milk.

I whisked her out the pram just in time for her to do an almighty, exorcist-style puke all down herself. All down me. And over my shoulder, in the direction of the table full of non-parents, mid meal.
Nancy looked terrified.

Being sick is grim when you know what’s going on. But if you’re tiny, and momentarily can’t breathe, it must be horrific.

And we both smelt disgusting.
In the loo, I took off the pongiest bits of clothes. Which didn’t leave much left.

I’m not sure what was worse.
The fact I had on a vest that was soaking wet and completely transparent.
Or seeing the work experience waitress on her hands and knees, blue rubber gloves on, cleaning up. Probably dreaming of a better life arresting drug dealers and murderers.

I insisted she left me scoop it into the bag. Which has to be up there with one of the grimmest job. With the exception, maybe, of being the person who cleans out the dog shit bins.

But sitting on the bus in a jacket and just my bra underneath, it struck me that when it comes to your kids; you instinctively do whatever you can to make them feel safe.
And reeking of puke also as its plus sides.

No one sat next to us on a super crowded the bus.

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