Tickly pox – I’m a mummy get me outta here

19 Nov

Poor little Josh, he’s got it, the dreaded chicken pox. It’s ravaging through his little body – I’ve never seen anything like it – except when Ellie had it. This horrible lurghy just coarses through their bodies, and they’re helpless little victims, wondering why, all of a sudden, they’re so itchy.

But apart from the sypmpathy that one naturally feels as a mummy, comes the dreaded puke-factor. Yesterday alone I got covered twice in projectile vomit from hip to knees the first time, the second down my top, welling up in my cleavage. Nice. He was covered, I was mostly covered, it was dripping off the leather footstool and a puddle was seeping into my carpet.

It was one of those moments as a mum when the world goes slowly for a minute. I simply had no idea what to do, where to put myself, my dripping jeans or my puke-soaked child or where to begin the clean up process.

I’d be lying if I said there isn’t a moment at times like these where a thought flashes through my brain: “I’m may be the mummy, but get me outta here.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: