Pukesplosions anyone?

A friend recently posted that she would love it if mothers could get a day off. Unfortunately that is just never going to happen for us, but it does for our husbands.
My weekend was going great, until the Great Pukesplosion Incident of 2013. It was just five hours before my own mother was set to visit. She was flying in on a jet plane to see her beautiful El Poker Bambino and Loving Toddler Boy. It's a good thing, she had planned this visit, because this mama was an unsuspecting naive one who thought life was perfect until it flipped upside down in an instant.
The dear husband had been off doing business and I was stranded at home quarantined with the recuperating bambino and wild toddler. We had exhausted ourselves playing cars, throwing a plastic ball, and running in circles around the coffee table, so we settled down to read a book together. We were surrounded by the two whiny fur babies who were dying of thirst and starvation as well as demanding to be taken out to use the restroom for the fifty thousandth time that day. Then out of nowhere, the toddler began dry heaving. Suddenly, he was a geyser erupting with the powerful force of pukesplosions. Not one eruption, not two eruptions, but three large eruptions of mixed veggies that had been lunch were now tossed across his beige bedroom carpet floor. Hurriedly the annoying dogs jumped into action. The tongues came out and ate that nastiness up. Now, normally, I'd yell at them for licking anyone or anything because it truly grosses me out. This time though, I let them lick that sh#% up because I can not stand puke. Literally it tosses me over the edge of a mountain where I loose all footing and plummet to my own demise. However, today I let it be as I simply could not handle the stench of digested green beans, lima beans, corn, carrots, and potatoes. Simply put, coming back up the pipes of a child was a rotten aroma so significant it could've made a grown person cry and cry I wanted to do.
Off we raced to the bathroom where I promptly ran a bath as the Great Pukesplosion incident carried on. Again, the toddler was puking on the lovely lime green bath rug. Now I needed to get the infant elevated off the ground level of the bathroom so as to not be placed in the puddle of puke. I raced with lightning speed to grab the vibrating bouncy seat. If I could run the bath and get the toddler cleaned with my arms, then I could bounce the baby with my legs at the same time and keep him calm. That sounded like a great plan, but unfortunately, it did not work at all. The decibel levels in the bathroom reached higher than the stars in the sky as astronauts could hear the wails of the infant as the toddler sat in complete disbelief over his sad sad luck. We made the best of it though and survived. Finally we emerged with a whole new attire and found our way to the kitchen. There we placed the bouncy seat with with the infant on top of our hideous dining room table and grabbed some water and goldfish together to get some things back into my baby boy's belly. At first, he was hesitant to take any food or drink, but gradually he began. Just as soon as this occurred, he exploded again....this time all over me. While the dogs happily cleaned up his room and the bathroom floor, there was no way in hel@ that I was letting them lick my chest and bosom because of course the kid puked right down my shirt.
Quickly, I whisked the kiddo away with me to my own bathroom. I closed the door to drown out the sad wailing still coming from the infant who was safely on top of the table tied into his bouncy seat and I took a lightning quick shower and changed into some better smelling clothes. I then proceeded to strip down my toddler and get him changed for a second time. Finally, the husband magically appeared and off I passed pukey boy to him. Within one minute's time, he had erupted again,this time on my husband and not on me. I was finally thankful for something. Had he been here earlier to help me, I wouldn't have wished the puke on him, but as it stood, I was bitter that I  had to suffer through puke by myself for over an hour. Eventually my husband cuddled him on the couch and I managed to get in a shower. After all, I needed to smell clean to welcome my mommy into town.
I drove to the airport thankful to pick her up. Her presence is always a blessing as she cleans more than anyone I know and can keep a toddler entertained for hours. As she landed and I picked her up we chatted about the Great Pukesplosion of the night. She was unaware that the next day, she was in store for some more.
She arose with the roosters just before dawn as usual. Without fail, the toddler arose a short time later. My mother then greeted him with her lovely presence and proceeded to give him some milk. He now had a present in store for her. It was within minutes, that she received the gift of a Pukesplosion geyser as well. She hurriedly entered the bedroom where my husband and I were recuperating from the joys of being up all through the night with an infant to ask our advise. We sent her back into the pit of terror with a new pajama set for the wee one and instructions on to give him water and a banana. She did as was told and we soon dragged our tired selves out of bed to join the party. It was not more than five minutes after our arrival into the stinky-cheese smelling living room that the toddler was bouncing across the dark, brown, microfiber couch with a smile on his face. He was delighted mommy and daddy and baby brother were joining his party. He bounced like Tigger over to one end of the couch, all color drained from his face, stopped dead in his tracks, and proceeded to explode all over the poor couch. Oy Vey!!! My husband spent the next twenty minutes cleaning while I calmed he down and soon he was off to feeling a bit better. There were no more contents in his little belly to explode, so he was put on a strict diet of applesauce, toast, water, and bananas to bind him for the early morning. He made it a few more hours without puking and we thought for sure we were in the clear. Finally the day came to an end and we all called it a night.
About midnight, trouble was brewing. It came in the form of a violent race from our bed to the porcelain god. My husband was now worshipping the toilet. They became close friends and hugged throughout the night. My only help was a bottle of water, a cold wet rag, and a stern talking to about not working in the morning. He eventually fell asleep too. He awoke the next day to meeting with someone to deliver work paperwork and has been in bed the entire rest of the day.

The Pukesplosion subsides

While he's had his day off, I've been Lysoling and bleaching every surface and toy within the confines of our lovely home. I'd hate to be blessed with this tummy bug too. And that my friend's is how husbands get sick days and mothers do not.