Tonight Alex threw up his dinner. At dinner. At a restaurant. On the table and his plate and the front of his shirt and my wedding ring (love it when those things happen when Pete's out of town).
And as I worked through the six-inch stack of napkins the waitress brought me, the thought occurred to me that when I gazed at my ring with gaze-y eyes on my wedding day, I didn't also picture myself digging...pieces...out of it.
Add that to the growing list of things I didn't foresee when I signed up for parenthood.
3 comments:
Christine, that's gross, but poor Alex. Somehow when it's your own kid, it's not so bad though, right?
jw
mmm I love life's little surprises :)
speaking of long lists...i have one...on my blog...that i've sort of returned to...
Oh maaaan!!
So sorry Sister, wish I could say the worst is over...but, alas I cannot.
But your ring is pretty!
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