"Little problem here.... Mac pooped and the wipes are not in my bag. Yay."
and then, three minutes later.....
"Also, Quinn threw up in her mouth because of the smell.... :)"
By the time Tyson got back to the truck, Mac's poo was a hopeless pancake, but still (thankfully) contained in his diaper, and Quinn was sitting as far away from him as possible and breathing through her mouth.
We had accompanied Tyson with the thought that we would all go to Rexburg when finished, to help Emmy pack up her stuff. We bagged that idea and I stayed home and changed poopy-butt and put the kids to bed while Tyson headed to Rexburg S-O-L-O.
What followed, was the only two peaceful, restful hours that I got that night. And I spent them reading a dang book. If I had only known what was coming, I would have slept like a baby during that time. Stupid hindsight.
Tyson got home a little after 9 and spent 15 minutes talking on the phone before the puke-bomb went off. Apparently Quinn's puking in her mouth earlier, had not been due to Mac's poops. Wishful thinking on my part. From then on, Quinn puked (or dry-heaved as time went on) every twenty minutes until about 4 in the morning.
At one point she was laying next to our bed looking completely wretched and Tyson leaned down and put his hand on Quinn's head and said, "I'm sorry, Gup. I'm sorry you're pukey." She looked at him and said, "It's okay. It's not your fault." Geez, I love that girl.
Also-- on a side note-- Quinn enjoys doing her best banshee impression after every time she pukes. We're talking top volume here. So Mac got to be awake, enjoying the show, most of the night as well. We're pretty sure she gets this from my side of the family-- Grandpa Bray sounds like a mad dog whenever he pukes. Some good pukey-yelling there. Yep.
And BTW- you're welcome. This was just one of those nights that was too good not to share. I'm sure you all have your own stories to match or even best this one.....
