Why Can’t People Just Keep Their Bodily Fluids To Themselves?

Warning! If you are of a nervous and squeamish disposition, then do not read any further…I mean it…if you read on and then start complaining it will be your own fault and I will have no sympathy for you whatsoever…right then, don’t say I didn’t warn you because it states quite clearly WARNING, in red no less, and in BOLD letters at the start of this bilge story…seriously, some people never listen!

The great flu bug is truly upon us, or so it would seem. Like an unwelcome guest at a dinner party, the bug has been seen gate-crashing homes around the country, gorging itself on the excess buffet of human frailty, as well as behaving like a complete and utter arse.  Working it’s way around the room as if it were the host, it casts it’s glare at each partygoer, seeking to attack with it’s hazardous array of germ warfare. But metaphorical eyes avoid it’s presence and figurative contact is kept to a minimum, before it threatens to erupt at the onlookers of immune systems standing close by. Then and only then, is it escorted from the premises, via the methods of  coughs, sneezes and breathless wheezes (oh look, I made a rhyme)

“Shit, I feel bloated. I think I may have gorged too much on the excess buffet of human frailty”.

Today the great flu bug, turned up outside my door like an errant schoolkid who had spent the morning playing hooky. It asked the Spawn if he wanted to come out and play but Spawn refused. The great flu bug came in anyway and proceeded to cause all manner of trouble and strife and so now, the Lil man is ill.

 But fear not, faced with a sick child, I am unflappable, infallible even. I laugh raucously in the face of ill health, whilst simultaneously punching it in it’s abstract face and kicking it in it’s hypothetical testicles… unless of course, it’s me that’s ill and then I  just whinge and whine like a dying dog.

Take that, great flu bug of 2015!

Take that, great flu bug!

 No, an ill child doesn’t faze me at all…not one tiny bit…except…except when it comes to vomit. Now I can deal with any form of fluid from any orifice, (we’re talking children here not adults. I’m not that depraved) but not vomit. All a vomiting child does, is make this adult want to vomit in turn.

I have spent many years working with children under and above the age of five, wiping dirty bottoms and cleaning up slimy nasal mucous, the colour and consistency of which you will never find anyplace else on this earth and you know what? I’m OK with that,

because:

Dirty bottoms + snotty noses = piece of piss.

Whereas:

Vomit + vomit = vomit.

A runny nose...see what the artist did there?

A runny nose…see what the artist did there?

It all begun with the womb-fruit complaining of a headache.

Spawn: What if a Tarantula has laid eggs in my skull and they’re eating away at my brain?

Woman who couldn’t care less: Then they’ll go hungry.

Pain in the arse: But what if the babies have attached themselves to my central nervous system and then take control of my body’s movement?

Me trying not to punch myself in the womb: No such luck. Your spirit animal is the sloth. In fact Zombies have more get up and go then you.

SATAN: I’m going to die and you don’t even care!!

Me trying not to punch Spawn in the womb…whiny sissy man-boy: You’re not dying.

Brain Spider carrying boy bitch: BUT I AM!!!!

Me: Then can you hurry up, Captain America is on in 5 minutes.

Oh come on Spawn, Captain America wasn't that bad.

Oh come on Spawn, Captain America wasn’t that bad.

And that’s when his skin took on an ashen tinge and his cheeks bulged with the abundance of the technicolour yawn held within.“BATHROOM!” Was all I could yell as he went scampering off in what I, foolishly thought was the direction of the bathroom. Ahh, the bathroom, a room in which not only contains a sink but also a toilet, anyone of which would have been an ideal place for one to fall upon one’s knees and pray to the white porcelain gods therein.

But of course, this was not to be, for that very simple and extremely basic, one worded command of “BATHROOM,” had somehow become lost in translation. And so what my Spawn heard instead was this:

“If you are going to be sick, then can you make sure to BY-PASS the BATHROOM  and feel absolutely free to empty the contents of your stomach directly at the center of your doorway. Oh and whilst you’re at it, why not splash a bit of it upon the front of the door itself, remembering also to apply a liberal dash behind said door. And let’s not forget to splatter the bottom of your homework desk too, no point in leaving anything out”.

 I can totally see how he could misinterpret that word.

Yes, I'm well aware that rainbow coloured puke does NOT make the subject matter anymore palatable.

Yes, I’m well aware that rainbow coloured puke does NOT make the subject matter any more palatable.

It took me ten minutes of deep breathing, two cigarettes, a bag to hyperventilate in and a very large towel to clean up the mess, whilst all the while, dry heaving and screaming “OH MY GOD, I TOUCHED IT!”

After the clean up operation, all was calm and still, if not a little bit smelly…until Spawn decided to throw up once again…though I’m not quite sure if ‘decided’ is the correct word to use. I mean I’m pretty sure that had he any say in the matter, he would have chosen to keep the lining of his stomach, still actually lining his stomach.

The mess this second time around was immense. The only possible way that I could describe what might have happened, is that Spawn had stood in the middle of his room, turning at 180 degrees like a vomit spewing sprinkler system, hitting everything within reach. He had then decided to tell me all about this, by walking to my bedroom whilst trailing the remains of his poorly digested supper all the way down the hallway.

“DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHERE THE BATHROOM IS?” Was all I could say…hysterically.

Ten minutes of deep breathing, three cigarettes followed by a pep talk, (“come on Lily, you can do this), accompanied by lots of heavy duty retching and some industrial strength dry heaving later and I was ready to commence with clean up operation number two. The only problem now was that I had retched so much, that I actually ended up puking alongside his puke and then puked up again at the thought of cleaning up two sets of puke.

By the end of it all, I was completely traumatised and absolutely shattered. I had to go and lie down.

When the morning came, the only reminder of the night before was a slight aroma of Dettol…and of course vomit. Nothing but razing the house to the ground and rebuilding it from scratch, was ever going to get rid of that shit.

As I walked across the hallway to go and check on my poor sick baby, I stepped on something hard and solid. Kneeling down to get a better look, I poked at the object with my finger hoping to remove it but it was stuck fast to the carpet. Leaning forward, I sniffed gently at the matter and realised all too late, that what I was actually pressing my nose up against, was the remains of some dried up, stale vomit.

No points for guessing what happened next.

~Lily

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42 thoughts on “Why Can’t People Just Keep Their Bodily Fluids To Themselves?

  1. My mother used to force me to drink vimto (with hot water) when I was sick, along with a chopped up egg in a cup (secret family formula involving an egg and a mug and a spoon).

    Vomit is an anagram of Vimto. I know you probably already know this but I didn’t know, y’know… So now we both know.

    I’m not a fan of puking.
    I never allow myself to get so drunk that it finds the weakest point of resistance and erupts from my gob in a shower of guts and bile.

    I hate vomit.
    I hate vimto.

    I do like eggs chopped up in a cup though…

    Liked by 1 person

    • Did your mother hate you by any chance Mr H?
      Being notoriously shit at anagrams, I had no idea that Vimto was an anagram of vomit…though to taste Vimto, that would make sense. Talking of which, have you seen the new ad with the Vimtoad and it’s long tongue? It’s like an ad for a lesbian hotline!

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  2. The one and only (yes, truly) time that my sister asked/allowed me to babysit her daughter, she was sat on the sofa next to me, said “I feel sick” and then without further ado or movement towards the bathroom, proceeded to do an Exorcist over the side of the sofa and onto the floor. Yes, complete with head spinning. Or so it seemed at the time. I don’t know who was more surprised, me, the daughter or the carpet. Now that the daughter has a baby of her own, I’m waiting for the call to babysit my great nephew and for the whole messy saga to repeat itself. Cos that sort of thing happens with kids, or PPPs as we call them (Potential Pension Providers).

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    • Children do have this extraordinary ability to project their innards over a large space. Maybe if said vomit didn’t smell like death, then it wouldn’t be so bad. So Kimberley, why were you asked/allowed to babysit the one time. Are you an aunt like me? The type that lets them eat the contents of the fridge and stay up all night watching inappropriate TV programmes?

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  3. WHAT?!?!?!?!? You SMoKE?!?!?!? CigareTTes?!?!?!? I didn’t realiZe people were stiLL doing that. Perhaps I entered my time maquina tOO often and I have been spending tOO much time in the 24th century. No one smokes there but everyone is naked eXcept they wear 3D goggles that superimpose artificial wardrobe on the people you are looking at through the goggles. So there isn’t a real garment industry in the 24th century. People live in chilly climates by using a localized force field that maintains the temperature of the air close to the human. Surprisingly it is an Apple product. The iPhrost.

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    • Mr E, I’m actually on the Vapourlites. Gave up smoking almost 8 months ago. Although in times of emergencies that involve me having to clean up the guts of another person, a toke of cocaine is needed…bloody pity I gave that up years ago too.
      Ooh, you have a time machine! Can I travel with you? Preferably to a time when I was sane…wait…does that time even exist?? What happens if I break my 3D goggles accidentally on purpose?

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      • See!!!! When I came to London and picked you up and took you to 2417 I told you that you most likely would not remember going into the future after about three days when you come back. And yes, you kept breaking your 3D goggles just so you could peek at everyone. I can’t repeat what you said about ME, but it was embarrassing and we were finaLLy asked to leave Australia and never come back. You did enjoy the root beer of the future, it was just aMaZiNg how much you could drink!!!

        Liked by 1 person

        • I didn’t do that thing that I do with the Wallabies again did I? I swear they started the whole thing! Well there goes my plans to emigrate Down Under. Can’t believe that I got kicked out of not only Australia, but the future as well! As for those goggles, they were obviously made in some shoddy warehouse where the workmanship is of a low standard, cos they kept breaking…ahem…
          And I apologise profusely for whatever it was I said, though you know how I get when I imbibe the sugary goodness that is root beer. That stuff is like Crack in a can!

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      • The Wallabees! Yes, you rememembered! ActuaLLy the Wallys liked it but after you left they outlawed it. Don’t worry, you aren’t banned from the aLL of the future, just the future 2417 of just Australia. So if I could ever figure out h0w to do a different year, we could visit a different Australia, AND a whole new set of Wallys. So I coming to pick you up in 3 days (rememember?), so be outside at 3 AM naked and I wiLL pick you up, Peter Pan style. And as I promised last trip, you get to be Peter Pan this next time.

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        • Now wait a minute, last time you told me to wait outside nekkid, I was arrested under the Federal Anti-Obscenity Act of 1857! I’m not sure if it’s worth trying another time frame. What happened with those Wallys is probably written in their genetic code by now. Well, at least I get to be Peter Pan this time. Although those tights do chafe quite a bit.

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      • Oh, you were arrested? Sorry, I didn’t mean to get you arrested. Even if the wallaby’s genetic code is altered I was planning on taking you to pre-2417 Australia, like maybe 2416, where the wallabys are unsuspecting of your charms & harms & arms & rms & ms & s. Next time you are waiting nekkid be sure to hide behind those bushes across the street, and to the left.

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        • I can see how you would think I meant that Mr E, but the fact is…meh…who am I kidding? Yea, I meant clothes. Damn, my predictability is becoming predictable in it’s predictability.

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      • Yes (Did you already know I would leave a single word yes response? Perhaps it is residual leftover brainwavys from aLL the time travel.)

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  4. UGH! You’ve got my sympathy. As much as I enjoyed raising our kids, (and half of the other kids in the neighborhood, too, it seems) I do NOT miss the times those bouts of stomach flu made the rounds through the house. It was never just ONE of them that got sick. Oh, no. For a couple weeks, it seemed like all I did was clean up puke and poop. GAG. Nope, don’t miss it a bit.

    By the way, if you have a Kindle and are interested, my book “Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade” is one sale for CHEAP this week on amazon.uk. No puking in it, so you might enjoy it…

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    • Susan, I worked in a private nursery a few years ago, with kids between the age of new born and 3 years old. One day, they all came down with a stomach bug…on the same day…ALL 30 kids!
      30 puking and pooping womb-fruits and you know what I did? I offered to change ALL 30 dirty pooping nappies/diapers, if my colleagues dealt with the puking. And I did. Whilst my co-workers were gagging and heaving, I was donning a pair of those surgical gloves we used and humming a merry tune. I will take poop over puke EVERY TIME.

      Damn! I’m currently in a war with Amazon. I finally plucked up the courage to use my debit card and Amazon keep declining the sodding thing! It’s so frustrating!! Is there anywhere else online that I can purchase your book? I only have this problem with Amazon.

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  5. As is the way these days I have arrived late again but I can see folk have come to the rescue and have made loads and loads of comments again. . . . PHEW how cool is that, not that I am jealous no not me I am a decent chap I dont do jealous. I mean if folk want to flock to a post about vomit rather than one full of poetry and wise thoughts who am I to criticize the way of human thought. (Only kidding Miss Lily sob sob). This reminds me of our youngest daughter who when she was young would say a few seconds before she threw up that she felt sick. Plainly to late to do anything except leap out of the way. She would then do the classic Ooooooo I will be sick in a huge circle to make sure I cover everything. OK in the house, well not OK, but much much worse in a moving car with the windows closed. . . DAMN there are some things that you dont need to remember. . . .

    I am not a fan of dealing with either end of children but did manage to dig out all the shit and stuff from the septic tank when we moved here. . . . It is Odd what different minds can cope with.

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    • Mr Z, I don’t know about loads and loads of comments, but Mr E has been keeping me nicely entertained. I will never stop saying that blogging is a fickle business. It seems that commenting on people’s posts has become antiquated, because bugger all but the faithful can be bothered.

      And why do kids announce that they’re going to spew, a millisecond before they follow through with the act? I don’t shout “I’m going to do a poo,” before I then go and…oh no wait…I do…much to the Lil man’s chagrin. Again, I’d rather clean out a septic tank then deal with vomit. Actually, I’d rather lick a tramp’s armpit then deal with vomit…Mmmm…taste like chicken

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Lily, I’m so sorry, flu bugs are nasty business! Vomit is the one thing that really gets me too. Literally, looking at it or doing it makes me ill, ugh. Don’t envy you having to clean up after Spawn’s rainbow bursts when he suddenly became “a vomit sprinkler system” yikes! I don’t even smoke and I’d have needed three cigarettes or more if I’d been in your shoes!! I’m sure I’d have added a pile of puke alongside that one too, it’d be hard not to. Lily, that is truly traumatic, hugs for having to go through it!! And the next morning…!! You sincerely have my sympathy. Btw, those rainbow graphics really tell the tale.

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    • Madilyn, Just remembering what happened makes me want to puke. It’s like kids have a target for the amount of coverage they can achieve. I mean it’s great to have goals, but covering anything within a 5 mile radius is taking things a bit too far. Thanks for the hugs, though don’t come too close though, on account of the fact that I smell like all that is bad in the world.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Ah Yes. Vomit! Marvellous stuff. I’m the opposite I’m afraid. Not overstruck on the soft brown stuff but seem to cope reasonably well with puke. I don’t envy you though, it’s never a pleasant task. You can get gas masks from most Army Surplus stores and I have found wall paper scrapers to be particularly useful for removing puke of all consistencies from carpets. Just thought you’d like to know that. You’re spot on with childrens ability to spray a whole room mere seconds after announcing they feel sick. I hope the Spawn is feeling better.

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    • Mr D, never mind a gas mask, I need a Hazmat suit where Spawn is concerned. Poop doesn’t faze me half as much as puke, but my friend can mop up a vomity mess with one hand, whilst eating a sandwich with the other. Not sure how my mother coped with six kids all expelling their bodily secretions at one time or another.
      We should enter projectile vomiting in the Olympics. Have kids competing on who can spew the longest distance, or who can cover in the contents of their home in under a minute.

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  8. Excuse me (bleurrrrgggghhhh)! I cannot handle any vomit nor the brown stuff unless it has come from my own body or the cats. I say a high pressure hose and moving house would be in order if it was me.

    Although it does remind me of a time where I was at the local fairground and had the great privilege of watching a dude and his date in a ride where they will both locked in a circular wheel facing each other. Needless to say, the dude obviously had too much drink or fairy floss and it was on like donkey kong – yes projectile vomit all over his date. Of course, she was strapped in and could only move her head to try and miss the spew – epic fail! Don’t think that they would have gone on another date after that one.

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  9. I can tolerate anything from a child. Dad instinct takes over and I can clean the worst of the worst.

    If it comes from an adult, I can’t handle it. Sometimes a strong fart is enough to turn my stomach.

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    • Thank you pranjalsrivastava123 and welcome, although you may soon come to regret the words of the last sentence you wrote.
      As I see it, I can either laugh in the face of illness and hope that it doesn’t punch me in the face, or I can weep like a banshee, rocking back and forth in malady’s agony. (ooh, that was quite poetic) Of course I choose to do the latter but my Spawn won’t let me. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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