ass-clenching and puke blowing
a different colored horse than
You know that deal when you hear something frightening and your sphincter tightens up? That happened to me today.
I was reading the newspaper when the wee one yelled from across the room, “MOMMY! PUKE ON THE FLOOR!”
[sphincter clenches…. now]
My shoulders slump and I think, “How can that be? I didn’t hear any retching. Not even from the dog.” I look up. I don’t see any puke, but that doesn’t necessarily mean none is there. With trepidation I ask the wee one where the puke is. He motions for me to follow him. We tramp across the living room to a spot by the TV. There’s no puke. Only various crap (of the plastic, stamped with “lego” nature) and a yellow recorder. Also known as a flute.
“A flute?” I ask. There’s a flute on the floor?”
The wee one looks at me like, “Duh,” then he says, “Can you blow my puke, mommy?”
“Sure, son. I can blow your puke. But you first.”