Saturday, March 20, 2010

My Sick Baby Boy

Last night as I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I went to the stupid New Moon release party and since I didn't stay long, I drove the long way home and listened to my new Joan Jett CD, which totally rocks. I just have a special place in my heart for a chick that would rather kick you in the throat than hear any bullshit that you might feel the need to unload. Also, any girl who feels the need to rage should be aware of the chicks that raged before her. The Runaways were the first all girl band that rocked, and they really rocked.

So I drove around with the windows down, with my hair blowing in the wind and the music just blasting. It is a greatest hits collection and there are songs of hers and from The Runaways so I could have listened to it forever. At some point, I decided to go home. When I got home, I felt the way I always do when I do something "frivolous", stupid.

Owen was in bed with Chris when I got home and I could tell immediately that he didn't feel well. He didn't have a temp, but he was obviously hurting. We'd had pizza for dinner and we let him eat a couple of garlic knots so I thought that stupidity was just coming back to haunt all of us. Several hours later, a few clothes changes and more vomit running down my body than I care to remember, and I no longer think it was the knots. I'm not sure what caused it but it seems to be gone now. I also love how Owen doesn't whistle beef until I pick him up. The feeling of hot puke hitting your neck is just something that you can't describe. Hot and chunky. It's just vile, really.

Out of the kindness of my heart, I'll post a picture of Joan Jett and not my kid puking. Consider it a gift.

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