I was parked in the pickup line, the van was turned off, Reggie and I were waiting for Lyd and the barbarian charge of children to come flooding out of the school.
This has become a valued part of my day. Reg brings a couple toys along, she’s occupied. There’s no dirty laundry in the van, no dirty dishes, and I am not staring at my computer screen with my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I get to break out my notebook and I write longhand for few minutes. It feels pretty good.
“Daddy? Can I free-range?”
“Sure Reggie.” I put my notebook down, turned around and undid her child seat buckles. She slid out and set to playing with her dolls in the back of the van. I got back to scribbling out more notes for the book.
“Daddy?” She was tapping my arm.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “Yes?”
“Can I play with the steering wheel and buttons?”
(Well, I suppose writing can wait.) “Sure, come on up here.” She was on my lap, pushing every button, flipping every switch and lever.
“Thank you Daddy! What does this do? What is this? Why is there a trumpet on the steering wheel?” She turned to kiss me, I gave her a mock look of annoyance and pulled away. “Say it Daddy.”
I smiled and said, “Well at least Regina isn’t trying to kiss me!” very loudly, very deliberately.
She grinned and climbed up on me. The game was on, I try to avoid being kissed by Reg…and lose. Every time she kisses me, I freeze. She taps (occasionally slaps, “No, be gentle Reg!”) my face and I return to normal. I then give her a tickle and attempt to eat her. This repeats for the next two to five minutes until one of us gets tired of the game.
She stopped abruptly and a serious look crossed her face, “I don’t feel so good Daddy.”
“Really? What’s wrong? Are you going to throw up?”
“No.” She hiccupped, “But I AM gonna kiss you!” She launched another attack, I wasn’t playing anymore. “What’s wrong Daddy?” She hiccupped again, but this one had a hint of gurgle to it. I smelled a little bile.
“Reggie? Reggie! How are you not feeling well?”
“I feel” (hiccup) “fine Daddy! I’m not sick anymore. I’m trying to kiss you!” I smelled more bile. Ugh.
“Reg. Hold up a second Hun!” She burped again, it was throaty, that gurgle sound again accompanied it. It smelled worse than ever. My window was open. I could stick her head out the window if she pukes. I’ll just let her keep playing while watching her, and honestly, she doesn’t appear sick, it just looks like a nasty case of hiccups.
Then it occurred to me, I might not get her to the window in time. That means she’ll tag me.
And that’s when the sad and resigned thoughts began setting in…
“Okay….ideally she’ll only get the shirt. It’s an old crappy shirt, I have no problem tossing out this one, Annie probably wanted me to throw it out years ago anyway. So long as none of it hits the upholstery.
She redoubled her efforts to climb up on me. She hiccupped less than an inch from my ear. These are very wet burps! My inner dialogue continued, “So, she could puke in my ear, or down my shirt…I can live with that. We live nearby, it won’t be a long drive while being covered in sick. But the ear? My hair? It’s gross, but I can still shower it off.”
She grabbed my face and brutally turned it toward her and she planted a kiss on my lips (she sometimes crosses her eyes when she does this, it kills me), and she hiccupped again. “Oh my God! She might puke in my mouth! Eww. Well…I guess, I’ll lean out the window and spit it out as quickly as possible. Getting someone else’s puke in the mouth—that will be a first. I turned to my book of life experiences for this. With a shrug it replied, “Uh…I got nothing for this one.”
Dang. Navigating uncharted waters here.
I am 100% certain I’ll be fighting back my own gag reflex if that happened. Do I at least have mints? Good.”
In the end, nothing happened. She was fine. As I was suspecting, it was just hiccups, nasty ones. What really struck me was my mental process through the whole thing. I was prepared for this. I was mentally and emotionally prepared for someone to throw up on me.
Nearly eight years of parenting has done this to me. Parenting has left me a resigned, possibly defeated man. I have been defeated by bodily fluids. I am now resigned to the inevitability that something gross is going to happen to me and that it can happen anywhere, at any time.
“Hey Dad!” I was jostled from my “what the hell happened to me?” Reverie by a high-pitched Fairy-like voice.
“Hey Lyd! How was school?”
“My tummy feels unhappy, I might have to go to the potty.”
(Of Course.) “Well…okay! Good to know! Get in the van, I’ll drive fast.”
I fired up the van and the windshield wipers started moving full speed.
Reggie burst out laughing, “Ha Ha! I did that! I turned on wipers! Ha ha!” (hiccup!)