Nightmare Parenting Story #563

My side of an IM conversation tonight:

I took Helen to see Pinocchio tonight, put on by the local children’s theatre organization that I have been involved with for 22 years.

Cute show. First half, anyway. (More on why I only have an opinion on the first half shortly)

One of my best friends wrote the adaptation and directed it, and a lot of good friends are in it/involved with it somehow.

Mom and Helen saw it last weekend, and she loved it, so I bought tickets to go tonight.

Today, Helen was so excited playing with Jan (internet friend)’s son Benjamin that she wouldn’t eat lunch. Then we had to talk her into eating dinner, because her tummy was unsettled from being empty.

You see where this is going, don’t you?

After intermission, Helen wanted to sit in my lap

I thought she was tired

So I let her

and five minutes into Act II she started leaning back on me, so I asked her if she wanted to go home

we were in the third row

stadium seating

two rows below us

“Do you want to go home, Helen?”

She nodded, and turned around to snuggle in more (I thought), so I hugged her and happened to have my hand over her cheek/mouth (thank God) as she puked down my shirt.

Twice.

The row in front of us was spared, thankfully, because Helen was cold and wearing my jacket as a blanket, so I used that to catch it…

Our row was spared because I have spent so much of Helen’s life trying to shield the world from her projectile vomit that I have a little too much experience with this

But they MOVED out of the way so we could get out

She dropped her Croc down into the tunnel (it’s a Greek-style theatre — arena seating around tunnels that enter onto the stage), so I had to send an usher to go get it

and we squished out

I hope I kept most of the puke contained in my shirt, bra, and jacket, and by cupping Helen to me, but I don’t know

Jerry met us at the door to strip Helen and bathe her, and I went upstairs to wash it out of my hair, etc

and now I’m doing laundry

All I can say is THANK GOD I knew all of the tech crew at the top of Riser 3 who helped us get down the stairs, get the shoe from Tunnel 3, and the House Manager who asked me where we were sitting as we were leaving. I was embarrassed, but not as much as I would have been, you know?

And I’m glad I hadn’t cleaned out my car today because there were plenty of plastic bags and whatever to cover ourselves with so that the seatbelts didn’t get all coated and gross.

And since I’m leaving at 4:30 am to go to Paducah in the morning, Helen saved me some time — no need for me to take a shower at o’dark ugly, because I ALREADY DID, at 9pm!!!

Yuck.

Poor kid. I guess we won’t be going off the reflux meds quite yet… And we’ll have to keep reminding her that she throws up when she doesn’t eat.