So the other day my son threw up everywhere. So awful. And even more so since the whole incidence was in public.
And then it suddenly was Christmas.
How are these 2 events linked together? This was information that I learned during Christmas morning with my sweet boys while I was unwrapping a prezzie from the Big M.
And so back to Tuesday we go, V and I wandering around the Mall on one side, while M went the other way. He likes to do his shopping last-minute. So as V and I were cruising, we strolled past the Aveda store. I am such a sucker for anything Aveda and was thinking about something for my sister-in-law and so in I strolled.
It’s basically like shopping at MAC, the shop staff is quite posh and slightly unapproachable. Completely dressed in black. Impeccable hair.
Anyways, strolling in and around the closet that is Aveda, deeply inhaling the gorgeous aromas of their products. Of course, just staffed with one person who was deeply involved in a complicated discussion regarding conditioners.
I had a wee question to ask him, so V and I waited patiently near the till while he rang his customer up.
Suddenly, without any warnings at all, started projectile vomiting.
All I could say was “What the hell?!?!” as I tried to catch the vomit spewing out of him with one hand, while the other tipped him forward so he wouldn’t choke. And spew it did. Seemingly endless in manner…
While my hands were outstretched, both catching and supporting, the Aveda guy and customer made horrified faces at me and my child. Aveda guy offered me some towels and then went back to the counter to endlessly apologize to the blond woman who just stared at me with her lip curled in disgust. Childless bastards.
It felt endless, but maybe was approximately a minute or so. And then I cleaned up vomit for a few minutes. V just sat there in his stroller, looking shocked, I was shocked. Aveda guy was shocked. I was embarrassed. And apologetic. Aveda guy said “I’d help you, but I hope you understand that I am feeling a bit nauseaous” . And gave me a garbage bag when I asked.
I joked “Well, there could be worse places than Aveda! At least you can easily cover up the smell!!” I don’t think he thought it was as funny as I did.
I pretty much ran out of there with V, on the phone with M the whole time…
“Honey? Vomit-fest. V is covered. We are leaving. Meet you are Sears?”
“Sounds good. Why don’t you buy V something clean to wear at Sears?”
“Ok!” I said, slightly freaked out and panicked. But, of course, calm at the same time. Outwardly, anyways…
That stroller was practically on fire, it was going so fast. And a trail of vomit-odor followed us through the mall and into Sears. And into the elevator. And as the doors were starting to shut, someone shouted out for us to hold it. Really? Are you sure?
She was, and politely rode with us up to the second floor. In a vomit elevator.
I raced into the kids section going “2-t 2-t 2-t 2-t” in my head. I only wanted that size, a shirt and pants or shorts. Quickly found some serviceable things and dashed off to the check-out.
Standing in line, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other with V in front of me caked in vomit. No-one gave us a second glance.
I reached the counter and had the following ridiculous converation:
“Did you find everything you were looking for?”
“Yes, thank you, I did.”
“Do you have any coupons you’d like to use today?”
“No, thank you.”
“Would you like to use your Sears card?”
“No, I don’t have one thanks.”
“Would you like to apply for one?”
“Are you sure?”
“Everything would be almost free if you did~~~!”
“My child is covered in vomit, so I am not really interested at this time.”
The look on her face was priceless. And then she started apologizing. And frankly I didn’t care at all. I just paid, ripped the clothes off the hanger at the counter and refused her offer of a bag.
Back to the elevator, down to the second floor and out into the parking lot. M met me with the car on the sidewalk, which was where I stripped the Little Man down and changed his vomit-clothes. Most of them went right in the trash.
The day didn’t get any better from there. It basically sunk into vomit-hell.
Vomit, phone calls to the pediatrician, more vomit. Quick stop at home. Bath. Change. Vomit. Off to the Dr. More vomit. Vomit. Vomit. And some more vomit. Slight dehydration of the little man.
Christmas morning, as I opened a package from M, I learned more about karma than I ever knew. As I unwrapped several bottles of Aveda haircare products, M could barely contain his glee as he recounted his story. Apparently he had been in the Aveda store about 15 minutes before me. And Aveda guy was a total ass to him. So awful and condescending that M wondered why I liked their products.
So Aveda guy? Right back at ya…