It seemed only right to write a post about Patrick right after one about his sister. He really threw me for a loop on Monday.
It was a pretty day, so I'd popped them in the stroller and we walked down to a local coffee shop. I ordered a croissant, which came with grapes on the side. The kids wanted to sit outside, and they wanted to sit in big chairs, so the three of us sat at a table. They were sitting on the very front of those green plastic deck chairs so they could reach the table. Lilly, who loves grapes, was devouring them by halves; Patrick chewed on some croissant. He notoriously refuses to try "real" food, though he loves baby food fruit and the new squeezie pouches.
After about half an hour of sitting there eating and feeling like a table of adorableness, Patrick asked to sit on my lap. I pulled him over, and asked him to try half a grape. He eventually did, but he started coughing - and then threw up all over both our pants. In the almost-year I've known them, he's never thrown up.
Naturally, that was a small disaster. I had some napkins to try to wipe some up, and someone offered to get a cup of water, but that didn't get us very far. We got into the bathroom (almost: the stroller didn't fit through the last door, so we had to leave it outside) and I stripped both our pants off. I told Patrick that when he got in the stroller, I'd put his jacket over his legs. That ended up working just fine.
I was in a stickier spot (no pun intended; that's just nasty). I could walk the almost-mile back home with wet, icky pants, or I could improvise. I had a long-sleeved shirt under a short-sleeved shirt; with a little creative effort, the long-sleeved shirt became a miniskirt. I'm not sure whether the general populace would've preferred me in a miniskirt in midday or dirty pants, but at least I was more comfortable.
Well, except for the part where it was an improvised miniskirt in danger of falling down, with sleeves threatening to dangle out from between my legs, and it left my short-sleeved shirt on top showing a little more cleavage than I usually do, and I was pushing a double stroller down a main road at one in the afternoon.
All in a day's work.