There are 9 children aged 12 and under in my house this morning, and only 1 me. The Computer Guy and #1 are at work, so I get to face the hordes of children alone. (Are you super impressed with my bravery? Yeah. Me too.) My brother’s children came over just before lunchtime yesterday, spent the night, and will be here until dinner time tonight. He had a work thing, and took his lovely bride with him. I don’t blame him, she’s pretty nice. The only thing is, me with 9 small kids who are all wound up over so much uninterrupted play time.
It was just this morning, as I was congratulating myself over my amazing ability to deal, that #7 crammed her whole hand into her mouth and puked all over me. My 5 year old nephew stood there staring at me in horror. As the blech dripped off of my elbows and pooled in my bra, he said matter-of-factly, “Aunt B., Your little baby just threw up everywhere and that’s really gross.” Just in case I had somehow missed the nastiness running down my legs. “I just don’t think that you should let her do that anymore.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”