Mike left for Dallas yesterday morning, which means I headed to Target with both kids in tow. We needed to make a few returns, get more formula, and do some light grocery shopping. We checked off two out of the three boxes.
As we were making our final approach to the formula aisle – it took us a while because L.J. had to check out several toy aisles on the way – I heard a strange gurgle. I looked into the cart and Hannah had spit up everywhere. I’d never seen that much come out of her and it was rather alarming.
I had a burp cloth in my purse, but that was like fighting fire with a watering can. Off to the paper towel aisle we went, where I grabbed a roll off the shelf and cleaned her up as best I could. Her bib and dress were totally soaked, so I figured I’d take her dress off and we’d head home in her diaper. I lifted her up and that’s when I realized she was sitting in a veritable lake of vomit. All over her back, her bloomers and pooled throughout the bottom of her carseat.
At this point, I was at a total loss at what to do. I desperately needed a second set of hands. Alas, it was 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning and Target was virtually empty. Holding Hannah on my hip, I tried to mop as much of it up as I could with the paper towels. It left a slimy mess that stunk to high heaven. As I was wiping and figuring out next steps, I saw L.J. spring from the seat of the cart. He proudly exclaimed, “I did it Mommy! I got the buckle off all by myself!”
Awesome, son. Just great. I’m holding your squirmy sister, wiping up an epic mess, trying not to gag from the smell and you figure out how to escape the safety of the cart. Stellar.
I quickly realized that I needed some wet wipes to at least be able to use the seat to get Hannah home. Off we go to the baby wipes aisle. I was holding a diaper-only baby on my hip, dragging an RV-sized shopping cart behind me and keeping an eye on a curious preschooler who’s chirping to anyone within earshot, “Baby Hannah spit up all ober da place!!”
The baby wipes did the trick on the carseat, except now it was quite wet and very cold. I couldn’t put Hannah back into it like that. Off we caravanned to the baby clothes section, where I grabbed a romper off the clearance rack.
Groceries were (obviously) off the table at this point. The stinky cart, the barely-dressed baby, the chirping preschooler and the harried mama hurried to the checkout line. First I handed the cashier the wrapper from the paper towels. That raised a curious eyebrow, but then she saw Hannah and guessed the reason. I handed her the tag for the outfit Hannah was wearing like a scarf and chewing on. (Cashier was trying not to laugh at this point.)
As I was paying, I asked L.J. if he had put his new Paw Patrol figures on the belt, which I knew he had – I was so frazzled at this point.
LJ did you put Skye and Rocky on the belt?
Yes, Mommy. But not Rocky. I have Rocky right here. (We own Rocky…)
Right. Zuma. The other one.
No, Mommy. Zuma is at home!
You know what I mean. The…the…the snow one!
You mean Everest, Mommy. I put her up there.
Captain Literal, that one…
The cashier gave up trying not to laugh. She started to tell us to have a good day, but then said, “Nevermind. I hope the rest of your day goes much better than your trip to Target!"
To be continued…
No comments:
Post a Comment