My Bulimic Baby

I have mentioned before that Little E has a spitting up problem.  He is a very good baby. This is my only complaint about this little guy.  I have grown accustomed to the many outfit changes, on his part as well as mine.

Today, I am lame.  Not in the I-drive-a-minivan way, but in the I-slammed-my knee-into-the-corner-of-the-booth-at-lunch-and-now-can't-bend-my-knee way.  I grabbed Little E out of the crib and hobbled over to a clean pile of baby laundry.  I needed to lean over and grab a bib.  I balanced Little E on my hip and went in for the awkward bend over to grab a bib.  As I was leaning over I heard the telltale sign that Little E was sending up a present for me.  A loud, juicy burp.  And there it was.  All over.  Little E threw up into the clean pile of laundry.

I suppressed the urge to shout out a four letter word.  I guess I'll be rewashing that pile.

DANG! (Not the initial word I wanted to shout out)


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