Lessons in Motherhood: Airplane is a Daddy game

Thomas is 5 months and 16 days old.

For 5 months and 15 days I've been telling Josh to "stop bouncing him above your face...he's gonna puke right on it."

For 5 months and 15 days I've watched Dad dodge the slobber drips on a daily basis.

For 5 months and 15 days I've seen Dad bounce, toss, and spin my baby no matter how recently he ate.

For 5 months and 15 days I've watched dad lay on his back with his mouth wide open playing "airplane" with Thomas.

Today after listening to him scream for all but 20 minutes I laid on my back and played airplane with Tommy as a last resort. This ALWAYS works for Dad.


Thomas cracked into a big fat smile and started to laugh and I started the party in my head. "I'm as cool as dad-dy. I'm as cool as dad-dy." I sang to myself.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere I heard the "splash" of baby puke on my face. I immediately sat up and tried to hand Thomas to Josh who was doubled over laughing on the sofa. Thanks babe. I opened my mouth to say "help me" and tasted what is probably the most disgusting thing to ever enter my mouth. (I say "probably" because I remember certain experience with dumplings that makes my stomach church just to remember.) With vomit running from my eyes down to my mouth and quickly making it's way down my shirt, I thrust Thomas at his father.

Apparently this was the perfect opportunity for our first experience with real live throw up. Not just "spit up". I know because I tasted it.

There is no justice in this world.