January 12, 2006
Full-Family Barfblogging
filed under: Stuff you never, ever needed to knowSaturday night, Max began getting restless around 11pm. We were downstairs watching the bonus features on "Lords of Dogtown" (which means we *really* dug the movie), and heard him start ootching around on the monitor.
We took turns going up to soothe him, with Lisa taking the last turn as we finished the movie and prepared to go to bed. I was getting the movie ready to go back to Netflix when I heard over the monitor:
Max: Mmf. Mommy...?Lisa: It's okay, buddy, I'm AAAAAIIIIHHGGFFF!
[Silence. Max crying.]
Lisa: Oh, no, buddy, it's okay OH my GOD no, it's okay... HON?!
I was already arriving at the room by then, to find my wife and child absolutely drenched in barf. Drenched. She later told me that she had been leaning over him, about two feet up, when he showered her straight upwards. Unfortunately, this meant it all fell right back onto him. He looked like the Zapruder film.
So they took a bath and I stuffed their clothes and his sheets into the washer. And then we took turns sleeping with him, to comfort him during the six more times he barfed that night. Mostly, we got towels in the way of it. And mostly, it was just water from there on out. Mostly.
Predictably, Lisa got it Monday night. I was at rehearsal, but called off the second half to come home and put Max to bed while she hugged the toilet. By about 4 a.m. it had let up enough to allow her an hour or two of fitful sleep.
Tuesday night at rehearsal I got "indigestion." I hurried home, took an Alka Seltzer, and went to bed, hoping against the odds that would be all it was. At 1:45 a.m. I returned my ill-advised dinner of cheeseburger and fries to the circle of life that is the sewer system.
There's a strange quality to barfing as a result of a stomach bug. When you've had food that disagrees with you, or you're drunk, your body seems content to just toss the food out and call it even. But with a stomach bug, it's like your body is pissed off. "EVERYBODY OUT!" it seems to be saying. "RIGHT NOW! I MEAN IT!" It feels like being wrung out like a damp dishtowel.
The sound effects were truly comical, though. Since the actual barfing wasn't the bad part (the bad part is the 15 to 35 minutes beforehand where you're totally uncomfortable and know you're going to barf but can't yet), I was able to appreciate the humor of it - especially since each one started with a weird burpy thing, and since after the cheeseburger was dealt with, all I was spitting out was water.
"BRAAAKwarglebargleglarglewargle!!" I'd shout at the toilet. "BRAAAAGHwargle bargleflargle!! BLARGHlebarfleglargle! HARRglegargle! HARrrrr... *spit* *spit*"
Somehow, getting to share the experience with a wider internet audience makes me feel better about the whole thing. Thanks for listening.
Posted by rjt at January 12, 2006 03:44 PMIs this story 100% true, or is it a "memoir" with some artistic license thrown in?
Posted by: Dave L. at January 12, 2006 04:00 PMHeh heh. I actually spent a good chunk of the day reading the Smoking Gun takedown of James Frey.
If I was Frey, the barfblogging would have gone like this:
ONE MILLION PIECES... OF BARF
"I was sick Motherfucker sick. The Barf was gonna have its way with me so I grabbed that fucking toilet and I let her have it. 'TAKE THAT' I was screaming, 'TAKE THAT YOU PIG.'
I did some more crack, and an oozing sore in my leg opened up. The Barf just wouldn't stop. There was nobody there to hold my hair back. I was alone and I didn't give a shit, I was a Puker and I was proud of it. The police were pounding on my door and I sang the national anthem while I punched them in the face."
****
Later, it would turn out that I had a bad pierogi, and it had made me burp. Once. When I was twelve.
Posted by: rjt at January 12, 2006 04:38 PMToo bad you got that tatoo... FTPISHOAK
Fuck these pierogis! I should have ordered a knish.
Posted by: Peanuthead at January 12, 2006 05:23 PMHA!
Posted by: rjt at January 12, 2006 05:28 PMIf I get this, you will be in deep barf.
Posted by: Mama-San at January 12, 2006 07:17 PMI must second the idea that vomming with a bug is way worse than vomming from bad sushi or a drunk. Sushi vom is 5 minutes of unrelenting hell followed by a near-serenity, like a body reset. Sickness vom just leaves you drained with enough energy to get the next heave up. Then aches and an uncomfortable fear of things like toast and tea.
Ever notice how people always want to talk to you after you throw up? Why?
Perj
I am seldom glad of being so far away from the procrasti-kid and his folks. Today is one of those times, however. I have not *fully* recovered from the virus or germs or bacteria or whatever he shared at Christmas!
Posted by: Procrastimom at January 12, 2006 10:03 PMah, yes. another classic RJ bodyfluidblog
Posted by: devore at January 13, 2006 11:10 AMHey, a fella's gotta be known for something.
Posted by: rjt at January 13, 2006 11:38 AMFor me, (barfophobe that I am) reading this is like looking at a train wreck, one with mangled bodies and lots and lots of death. And YET I CAN NOT STOP READING.
heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp!
Posted by: beeg at January 13, 2006 04:01 PMp.s. just living near you makes me nervous when I burp this week.
Posted by: beeg at January 13, 2006 04:02 PMI almost added a "No Beegs Allowed" disclaimer at the top. But then didn't. Out of cruelty. At least I haven't gotten around to posting the pictures of Max's Banana Toss on Mommy gig a month or two ago.
And, do be worried: I know of three people with whom I have shared no contagious activity who have gotten The Ick. It's in the air, or the water, or the food, or whatever. It's around.
Posted by: rjt at January 13, 2006 04:20 PM