Now I knew before I started that parenting had it’s own special difficulties.
Teaching a child not to pee on the curtains. Teaching a child that the Xbox is not a toy but a serious adult machine. Teaching a child that cat biscuits are not sweeties. Teaching a child that the family cat is not a glove puppet.
All these are common hurdles in which to get over during the parenting journey. All fairly harm less and not too costly to repair. I can handle these but, there are other instances that are just to gross to comprehend.
Yes, I am talking about illness. When a man has a cold, as we all know, the world must stop and look after him by supplying the remote control and plenty of reassuring words. The woman can either flake out on the sofa watching endless repeats of crappy reality TV or they can play the world’s saviour and carry on doing the housework whilst dripping snot all over the carpet.
Children on the other hand can not really tell you what’s going on. It just kind of happens. And always at times when you’re not expecting it.
As you know, I have a daughter that will be three in a month or so. Last night she erupted. Spontaneously and without warning.
I was awoken by crying at approx. 1.30am. I unsuspectingly arose from the bed and went into the daughters bedroom. The sight that greeted me was, just, eeeewww. In fact the smell hit me first. Rancid.
She was sitting up, in bed, with her hand over her mouth. Why she was doing this with her hand I could not say, I mean, she had already just covered her bed with puke. I can’t see how grabbing a handful and playing with it was any help at all. Especially as I didn’t know it was there when I carried her to the bathroom. Maybe she was scared of not finding her way back to the room so she wanted to leave a trail? I don’t know.
I know this isn’t a pleasant story to tell, but I am merely highlighting a part of the manual that never got printed. At no point did I read that, ‘…at some stage during your child’s development, you will be called upon to clean up after the ‘sick sprinkler’. The huge talent in all children where they seem to have the natural instinct to be sick through their fingers. I think, deep down, this is a present for the parents. To give them something nice to look at when they are cleaning.’
I think the one positive I can take from this situation is that while Mummy and Daddy were cleaning up after daughter, for like three hours, the prodigal son remained asleep and did not flinch at all the screaming and crying noises.
It would appear that another deep sleeping, snorer has been recruited to the family.