(Warning! This post is gross. I discuss vomit. If you have a weak stomach, turn away now. I’m not kidding. Stop reading right now. You’re acting like a little kid reading on when I told you to stop. It’s your call.)
I’ve long joked that my niece and nephews are better than any birth control on the market. I love my niece and nephews absolutely to bits, but the part I love most is that I don’t have to wipe their noses… or butts. I get to spoil them rotten and get them all hyped up, and then I leave and retreat to the quiet of my kid-free home. My sister has told me more than once that payback’s a bear (that’s not the word she uses). So I pretty much can never have kids.
A recent visit renewed my disinterest in bearing children. I was visiting my sister, the mother of my favorite niece in the whole wide world (she’s my only niece, but that has nothing to do with it) and my completely adorable and somewhat conniving little nephew. He’s four, and my niece is six. They are both masters at pulling on your heartstrings. But I digress. I was standing in my sister’s kitchen, talking to my mom, when my sister pulls in with the kids. My niece had gotten sick on the way home from the farm and had, in turn, thrown up all over the back seat of the car. All over my nephew.
The ‘phew gets out of the car and looks all confused as his mom is stripping him down to his underwear in the driveway and rushing him inside to the shower. I, on the other hand, was busy trying not to vomit myself. And I definitely would have turned a hose on the kids rather than take them inside to the shower. Maybe that’s another reason I shouldn’t have kids of my own.
Last weekend, I was home for the farm work day (when we do the worming and toenail trimming), and I stopped in to visit the kids on my way back to Indy. We decided that, since it was such a nice afternoon, we’d head to the park for a little while. For some reason, the kids think it’s a real treat to ride in my car, so we all piled in and headed out. While there, my sister said to the kids, “Your swing is free!” I didn’t know what that meant until I rounded the side of the slide and saw them both scrambling aboard a tire swing. All I could think about was that the kids were going to get sick and puke in my car.
My niece had to stop and get off the swing a couple of times, but my ‘phew just kept hollering, “I’m not done! I’m not done!” His mom finally pulled him off the swing when he could no longer talk or hold his head up. Apparently, my brother-in-law likes to run around the tire swing in circles when he takes the kids to the park, but I put my foot down. There was enough circling and dizziness without going crazy. Luckily for me, no one actually threw up. I did make them walk around a bit before we got back in the car.
Going to the park with the kids was a lot of fun, but we were there less than an hour, and I was exhausted. I think they were, too, but they don’t have off buttons.