I spuddle.

So I was going to type out this whole story and then I thought, no, why would I?  I’ve told this story already, I’ll just post the ACTUAL TRANSCRIPT because I know how you like them and besides, it’s probably only slightly funny when it’s fresh.   The story, I mean.   Not the puke.   Enjoy!   Don’t click through if you hate barf stories, I’m not kidding.   Don’t do it.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

11:00:40 PM me@hotmail.com*: I am the best stepmother in all the land and you owe me BIG TIME.

11:01:15 PM him@hotmail.com*: What up?

11:01:43 PM me@hotmail.com: Well, my guess would be that it was about 6 orange juices, a mc chicken, fries, a large sprite, some peanut butter toast, and some other non-identifiable things.

11:02:28 PM him@hotmail.com: Don’t get it

11:02:29 PM me@hotmail.com: Let me help.   You know The Stepson?   Well, he just sat up in bed and sprayed his entire room and EVERYTHING IN IT with the thickest, most smelly, revolting projectile vomit ever vomited in the history of vomit.   It’s a vomit that would put Linda Blair to shame.   A vomit for the movies.   A vomit FOR THE AGES.

11:02:59 PM him@hotmail.com: And you cleaned it up?

11:03:01 PM me@hotmail.com: It hit Stripey**, his comics, all his clothes, everything on his floor.   It saturated his carpet, hit books on the shelf on THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM, sprayed partway out the door…

11:03:01 PM him@hotmail.com: Ok

11:03:09 PM him@hotmail.com: You’re right

11:03:24 PM me@hotmail.com: …and then, while I held out a bowl with unwarranted optimism, it sprayed my hair, my shirt, my jeans and my face.

11:03:41 PM me@hotmail.com: “I think I didn’t eat very well today,” he said.  “I had a really bad diet.”

11:03:58 PM him@hotmail.com: I’m

11:04:02 PM him@hotmail.com: Um

11:04:05 PM him@hotmail.com: Ya

11:04:17 PM me@hotmail.com: “I don’t eat very well generally,” he said***.   “I learned my lesson.”

11:04:24 PM me@hotmail.com: “I feel better now though.   Sorry about the mess!”  he said.

11:04:34 PM me@hotmail.com: “At least it didn’t hit the DS!” he said.  “Probably the warranty wouldn’t cover barf!”

11:05:03 PM me@hotmail.com: So then, for lack of ANY OTHER SOLUTION, I realized that the only way to fix it, after wiping every toy/book/surface with disinfectant was to REMOVE THE CARPET FROM UNDER THE BED****.

11:05:10 PM me@hotmail.com: And get it outside.

11:05:20 PM me@hotmail.com: The smell seeping into my every pore, my gag reflex working in overtime.

11:05:33 PM me@hotmail.com: I single-handedly LIFTED UP THE BED and pulled the carpet out from underneath.

11:05:34 PM him@hotmail.com: Wow

11:05:40 PM me@hotmail.com: But wait!  The carpet is also pinned by the weight of the BOOKCASE!

11:05:49 PM me@hotmail.com: This is no problem for our hero, Super StepMother.

11:06:03 PM me@hotmail.com: She will simply LIFT THE BOOKCASE!   The smell MUST BE ERADICATED or no sleep will be had!

11:06:17 PM me@hotmail.com: The bookcase isn’t that heavy!*****   Hey, this isn’t so bad!

11:06:21 PM me@hotmail.com: But then…

11:06:24 PM me@hotmail.com: HOLY [BLEEP]!

11:06:27 PM me@hotmail.com: It IS that bad!

11:06:31 PM him@hotmail.com: Wow wow wow

11:06:55 PM me@hotmail.com: Because ALL THE THINGS BALANCED ON THE TOP INCLUDING THE 200 POUND BLOCK-MOUNTED DINOSAUR PRINT WILL ALARMINGLY AND UNEXPECTEDLY FALL ON THE BACK OF YOUR BENT-OVER NECK!  GIVING YOU WHIPLASH!

11:07:08 PM me@hotmail.com: AND POSSIBLY BROKEN VERTEBRAE!

11:07:14 PM me@hotmail.com: IN SEVERAL PLACES!

11:07:32 PM me@hotmail.com: But that’s OK now because the carpet is out from under the bookcase.

11:07:43 PM me@hotmail.com: Oh, no it isn’t!   NOT QUITE AND WATCH OUT FOR THOSE…

11:08:14 PM me@hotmail.com: INCREDIBLY HEAVY AND POINTY DRAGON STATUES AND COLLECTION OF LEAD KNIGHTS THAT WE ALSO KEEP UP THERE SO THAT IF EVER THE BOOKCASE MOVES THE PERSON UNDERNEATH IT, FLECKED WITH VOMIT, WILL ALSO GET STABBED IN THE EYE BY AN ERRANT HEAVY DRAGON WING AND WILL HAVE THEIR SKULL CRACKED LIKE AN EGG BY A SIX-INCH KNIGHT CARRYING A SEVEN INCH SWORD!

11:08:30 PM me@hotmail.com: But it’s OK.

11:08:34 PM me@hotmail.com: He has a bowl now.

11:08:59 PM him@hotmail.com: Holy [bleep].

11:09:07 PM me@hotmail.com: He figures if he feels sick again (and if he does, he will barf only acid because there cannot possibly be anything left in that human), he’ll use the bowl or… better yet! … he thinks maybe he’ll GO TO THE BATHROOM AND PUKE IN THE TOILET!

11:10:11 PM me@hotmail.com: And now every single thing he owns that is made from fabric is in the washing machine.   Not including the bedding, which will have to be done tomorrow, or the stuff in the rubbermaid tub, which will also have to be done because the vomit managed to SNEAK IN A HOLE IN THE BOTTOM OF THE TUB.

11:10:31 PM me@hotmail.com: I think maybe the vomit flecks each had their own motor and each swirled around as they flew through the air.

11:10:41 PM me@hotmail.com: Hitting things sideways, backwards, and upside down.

11:10:50 PM me@hotmail.com: So how was your evening?

11:11:54 PM him@hotmail.com: I really have nothing to report

11:12:52 PM him@hotmail.com: Wow

11:13:01 PM him@hotmail.com: That’s all I can say

11:15:20 PM me@hotmail.com: Can you say more than that?  I need a bit more.

11:15:57 PM him@hotmail.com: Thank you?

******

Oh, and for the record?  When I asked his mother later, she swore that The Stepson has NEVER thrown up at home.   How is THAT fair?   I shake my fist at you, Universe.   I SHAKE MY FIST.

* Not our actual IM names.    Although these names probably do belong to someone, it isn’t us.   So if you add these people expecting to find me or Clayton, you will be really really disappointed and may have to endure years of therapy to even partially recover from the pain.

** Name not changed to protect the identity of the lizard because he claimed he preferred it if I used his real name as it’s his only chance to be famous if just for 12 seconds and because of a vomit storm.

*** Generally speaking, he eats the following:   A muffin for breakfast (only the white kind, nothing containing bran) and an orange juice, an orange juice for lunch with perhaps a handful of deli meat and crackers,  chocolate milk, ham or chicken for dinner with raw baby carrots and pickles on the side.    On this day, he apparently ate peanut butter toast, candy, candy, candy, candy, sprite, other pop, MacDonald’s.

****  The TROMSO double loft bed from Ikea, which I must tell you is a NIGHTMARE to make and weighs a metric tonne.

***** Not really, but at that point a six foot bookshelf laden with books was no competition for my coursing adrenalin.

Filed under: Actual Transcript, Health, Kids, Laundry