HAAAARRRRF!

Ah, the joys of fatherhood.

With Abbie taking care of Sullivan in the evening (she is, after all, nothing but a milk jug to the boy every hour or so), I get the fun of giving Cooper a bath. I'm not sure that Cooper has yet fully discovered the fun of a bath, particularly with the splashing part of it. He did, however, discover the joy of one of his little bath toys that can suck up water and "spit" at dad. My shirt was soaked from it. But hey, that's part of being a dad. It was in my job description.

Let's talk about what wasn't in my job description when Cooper came along.

Let's give some background. Recently, we've seen a tremendous increase in Cooper's appetite. He has a tendency to scream at us alot, and when we found out that he was merely just hungry, we started to give him smaller, more frequent meals. And he's been quite a bit more pleasant since then.

Tonight, he ate a lot in his two evening meals plus a small snack.

Tonight, he threw it all up..........right on my chest and stomach.

After his bath, I went through our regular routine of moisturizing his skin, putting gloves on his hands so he won't scratch his legs while I'm getting him dressed, putting on his pajamas, etc. We turned off the light and sat down on the glider, and proceeded to slowly rock. Cooper was pleasant and ready to sleep. He moved his head from my left shoulder to my right, and just looked like he was going to sleep.

BURP!

He burped and coughed up a little bit of phlegm on my shoulder. I'm like, "Don't worry, Coop, it's just a little bit."

He sits up and looks at the loogie on my shirt...

...looks at me...

...and proceeds to spew this thick stream of vomit onto my chest.

I'm so in shock that I don't know what to do when the second wave of vomit flows out of his mouth and onto my stomach. So now I get my wits about me. Keep the crap on me and my shirt and don't let it spill onto the chair or floor (eases clean up that way). This prompted me to lift my shirt to try and form a "bib" for Cooper to catch his third spray of upchuck. I see the look on Cooper's face as he looks into my eyes with his "what's happening to me" puppy dog eyes. That's when I realize its going to be bad.

"ABBIEEEEE!!!"

Fourth spew of vomit gets caught in Coop's mouth so I have to slap him on the back to get him to spit it out onto my shirt.

"ABBIEEEEE!!!"

Fifth spray of vomit hits me.

Abbie comes storming into the room. She came through the door like a SWAT team busting in to save the victim.

She looks at me with a look like, "THIS is what you were bellowing for me like someone's life was in danger?"

Sixth spew hits my stomach. Slap him on the back to get a couple of chunks out.

I thought Abbie was going to walk out and go back downstairs. Thankfully, she stayed to help me out. Got Cooper new PJs and took him off me. Helped clean up what little vomit got onto him while I went to change my clothes.

He was a limp noodle after that and just wanted to go to bed. Poor boy.