Four words:
PROJECTILE VOMITING. Every day.
If he didn't act so perfectly normal and happy, I might seriously wonder if there was something wrong. Neither of my other boys ever had this problem and I now consider my past-self lucky.
I've learned to dodge the vomit by leaning forward or to the side when I know it's coming. When I don't realize it is on it's way . . . we are get totally covered in yellow fermenting milk curds. You know the smell.
As my older boys say these days, "Oh yeah!"
Who me?
1 comment:
Cute!!!
I want to smooch his adorable chunky legs. And look at those wrists!!! It would be worth the stinky.
Love him! And you. And the rest of your boyyyyzzzz.
ps. half of the fam is coming to visit -- you should too :)
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