Friday Night Cheese Party

It was one of those evenings only a mom (or a dad, maybe) could appreciate:

Sick baby girl. She picked up a nice little virus at the beginning of the week and has been weathering the ups and downs since. Fever spikes, appetite lows and loads of snuggling on the couch with mommy. Yesterday she didn't eat much at all. I've been tempting her with food favorites but she just wants her bottle and yesterday she didn't even want that. At bed time she takes her bottle--the whole thing--and then proceeds to throw it back up. All over herself. All over the floor. All over the Mom.

It looks likes cheese curds. Ever seen the cheese making process? Cheese begins life as milk that is heated and curdled and then separated from the watery milk in little chunks. That was all over the floor.

I strip Maia down. I strip myself down. As I head for the bathroom to draw a bath for the baby, I notice that the Harvey cat has chosen this very moment to express his disappointment in the state of his litter box by pooping on the floor. Great. So I'm in underwear staring at curds and whey vomit on one floor and cat poop on another. What's a girl to do?

Call John and ask him to bring home a pizza. That's what.

I did manage to get everything cleaned up. I attacked the floor of Maia's room after scooping the poop and while the bath was running. After soaking the carpet with cleaner, I dropped the baby in the tub and cleaned the cat box out. Soaped the kid, got her out and into clean pj's then scrubbed the carpet again.

All this in my underwear.

I did manage to have my pj's on by the time John got home with dinner. I earned my beer last night.