There is nothing like small children to get the gag reflex going.
In the past week, I found myself suppressing the urge to throw up in my mouth on the following occasions:
We went to the Bug Invasion exhibit at the Discovery Center, and Jafta held a four-inch cockroach, that hissed at him as he pet it. Hissed. Meanwhile, Karis peered into an egg crate of crickets that someone had set in a box on the floor and TRIED TO EAT ONE HERSELF.
We took the kids to McDonalds playland as a reward for good behavior, and I overheard India giving advice to Kembe about where to play in the play structure. Specifically, I heard her say, "Don't go in the helicopter part. Someone peed in there."
We took the boys to the barber. Each of them got a lollipop, which Jafta promptly dropped onto the floor under the barber's chair and then stuck back in his mouth claiming Five Second Rule. I am still shuddering at the thought of that hairy lollipop.
Karis is a big fan of trying on clothes, especially other people’s underwear, I decided to snap some photos when she sat down and attempted to don two pairs of Kembe’s undies. It seemed very cute and funny until I realized they had been fished out of the dirty clothes hamper.
And then, perhaps not as universally disgusting as the aforementioned incidents but equally as gross in my mind for some reason . . . watching India apply the makeup she received for her birthday. Her technique: apply all of the makeup to every inch of her face in one setting. The good news, I supposed, is that there is no longer any makeup for her to play with. But watching her cover her cheeks, chin, and foreheard in greasy, shimmery gloss that formed a layer of congealed clumps all over her face? Barf.
Do your kids do things that make you wanna throw up? I’d love to hear about it.
(Well, really, I wouldn’t. But leave a comment about it anyway. It’s therapeutic.)