I am a click bait junkie. You know what I mean? Those articles that all start with ‘The top ten parenting hacks and number four is pretty awesome’ or ‘The five things never to say to a pregnant woman and number three is so true’. I am the person these click bait articles are designed for. I cant help it, I need to know what number four is and if number three really is so true.
Out of them all though my guilty pleasure are those articles that start with something like ‘The things no-one ever warns you about parenthood’. Those articles resonate with me on some kind of primal level. I love scrolling through, reading and then nodding along emphatically with every point like someone had poked around my brain and put all my random thoughts about parenting on a page.
And truly, at this stage, two kids deep, I thought I had pretty much hit every single thing that could ever be included on any ‘thing no-one tells you about parenthood’ articles. That is until Saturday night. So please, ladies and gents, I invite you to settle down while I tell you my tale of woe.
We were spending Saturday doing the typical family thing when the weather is shite, i.e. hanging around shops trying to tire out the kids and waiting on the other to suggest take away for dinner. Then our oldest little started complaining that she didnt feel well and she is really chilly but she had more layers on her than a Michelin Man.
Out comes the trusty thermometer and low and behold she has a sky high temperature.
Homeward bound and she dozed off — sure sign something is up when she falls asleep instead of asking every 30 seconds what’s for dinner when we get home. Pulled into the driveway and himself says sure he’ll get the door and I can bring her straight in. Thanks for that one babe.
I think you all know where this is going. I lifted her out and she woke up and started spewing like a burst fire hydrant.
Covered me and herself but who got it worst? The dog who had run out the now open door to greet us. And somehow the poor daft eejit managed to also run right into the line of fire for the second bout 5 seconds later.
Get her in, poor thing is so upset about all the ‘burps’ on her doggie. I start sorting her and himself takes charge of getting the other little in and sorted.
I am upstairs, bath running, toddler complaining about ‘burps’ in her hair when I hear ‘what the fuck has happened in here’ booming from the kitchen.
Thinking jaysus maybe we were robbed I rush back downstairs into the kitchen and see it.
It was horrific.
In sorting the kids we forgot about the vomit covered dog who had come back inside. And what does a dog do when wet? Yup. In the words of Taylor Swift — Shake it off.
Not one surface had escaped, the kitchen and lounge were covered in vomit….walls, benches, sofa, TV, dolls house.
The two of us just stood there staring at it and then burst into hysterical giggles.
What else could we do?
Divide and conquer. I took the toddler who was now singing and in flying form having got whatever it was out of her system, the baby was happily babbling away in a sling while his daddy wiped vomit off the walls and the poor dog was bucked out into the back garden until we got the two wee ones to bed, after which we then set into shaving him while having two very large drinks.
So there you have it folks. The one thing I have yet to see included on ‘The top ten things no one tells you about being a parent’. But in all honesty if they included at number seven ‘you will spend your Saturday night shaving a dog who was kindly covered in vomit by your three year old, and wiping down surfaces after he shook her puke off himself with a-gusto’, then any prospective parents would run a mile and the human race would never survive.