The song practically writes itself:
Chunks in your hair, chunks in your hair. Lookin' kinda gross with chunks in your hair.
That, my friends, was my lovely lunch experience.
While playing with Ansley on my lunch break, I decided it would be fun to be on my back with her sitting on my tummy.
Before Paul was even able to finish saying "I'll laugh if she pukes on you," Ansley had indeed let the good times roll, as it were.
It was seriously one of those moments that time slowed down. I saw her make the face, and I knew what was coming. Before I could get her off of me, I saw that "beautiful" white fountain, aka, post-lunch bottle, erupt, and come forth in all of it's glory. And where did it happen to go?
Down my neck. Puddled in my curly hair.
I am a sympathetic puker. It seems to be getting better since I've been blessed with mommyhood, but, occasionally, it still rears it's ugly head. This was quickly nearing one of those times.
I called for Paul to get the baby and to bring me a towel. Instead of just grabbing his bath towel out of the bathroom, he walked around looking for the burp cloth he had minutes before. I wasn't sure if it would be better to remain in my position on the floor and wait for the towel to make it, or jump up and run to get the towel that I knew was in bathroom, yet risk the warm, milky, phlegmy goodness running down my back.
I stayed put.
The towel arrived, and once I was able to clean up the immediate disaster area, I took a closer look. Upon further inspection, it was revealed that much of the puke had indeed managed to add a nice crunch and crust to my curls. Lovely.
After a big sigh, I rinsed out the bottom of my hair. I didn't bother to change shirts, because none of it happened to land on my shirt. And I came back to work.
I guess once you're a mom, you can forget about smelling like anything other than baby puke and baby lotion. I prefer the latter much more.