Loving life with The DragonMonkey

The baby was adorable this morning.

All smiles and quietness.

Soft, cuddly, and absolutely perfect.

He got a little fussy after an hour of playing by himself (he's never played by himself for an hour before), so I picked him up and cuddled him.

And he gave a cute little cough.

Tiny.

Insignificant.

Utterly adorable.

I looked down at him and said, "Bless you!" because I couldn't think of anything else to say, and because I had to say SOMETHING--it was just that adorable. At the sound of my voice, he looked up at me, and gave a huge, toothless, heart-warming grin.

I melted.

"Awwww..." Overcome with emotion, I looked down at him, heart swelling with love as we stared into each other's eyes. He gave another tiny, little cough. I smiled even wider, and started to say, "Bless You!" again. But before I could finish saying it, The Dragonmonkey made tiny, liquid noise, and proceeded to spew vomit like a firehouse.

He threw up all over me. There was sour milk covering my shirt, my pants, my arms, my hands, and even in my hair. It was not a small amount of vomit, either. When I say I was COVERED, rest assured that I was COVERED.

He then threw up all over himself. Bubbling over like some evil force of nature, the next round of vomit coated his little blue monkey pajamas from his chin to his toes. The suddenness off it all left me frozen, horrified and rooted in place. I couldn't think what to do, so I just let it happen. It even came out his nose. And just when I thought it was all over...

He threw up all over the carpet. ALL OVER THE CARPET. How does this much liquid fit in one tiny little baby?

And when it was all over, as I stood there in shock, dripping vomit, standing in vomit, holding a vomit covered baby--- he looked up at me, grinned again, and gave another tiny little cough. What else could I do? "Bless you," I said in a weary voice, and proceeded with the clean up.