Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Every so often I get a glimpse (on a very small scale) of what parenthood must be like.

Recently, the dog has been on an alley/road/curb/gutter/street eating binge. If I don't monitor every moment of our walks, I inevitably look down to find him chewing on something. So it was no surprise to me when, last night, he went from calm to vomitous in 2.2 seconds flat. Literally - one moment we were sitting on the couch watching The Notebook on television, and the next moment he was hacking up a stomachful of churned-up, foamy looking white gunk. It came on so quickly that he didn't even bother to get up to vomit, he just yacked directly into my lap.

I think maybe he was protesting the movie?

Either way, it's strange to be vomited on in one breath and in the next, worry about the person/being who just blew chunks all over you. Dealing with vomit is a big part of parenting, no?

Here we have the barf-o-riffic creature in his natural habitat - the begging position. He is probably also wondering why I don't just let him drive the car for pete's sake.