It's 9:38 p.m. In the last hour and a half, Evan has thrown up four times.
Now carpet in three different rooms smells like vomit. Apparently 21 month old toddlers aren't very good at aiming into a receptacle for this purpose. (Not for lack of trying on my part.)
The only upside to this is that I taught him how to say "barf" and it's absolutely hilarious.
Might be a bit of a long night.
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Just the thought of a little kid saying 'barf' makes me giggle. I don't know if I'd trade that for a few piles of vomit, but I might consider it.
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