"Blaah." Vomit nailed my carpet.
But Mac was going for a second round, so I reached the door, threw it open and sent Mac out. As he was heaving in the front lawn, I yelled at a curious Red to stay away from the pile of nastiness, scooped up Holden and strapped him into his highchair. I then grabbed Red, who was sniffing the vomit, and ordered him out of the room. I raced to the basement and grabbed my mini carpet cleaner. As I was running around, I noticed that Mac had moved on from vomiting to pooping. After I cleaned the carpet, I went outside and walked around the yard in my nightgown-- my hair a height only achieved by hours of head tossing in a night of restless sleep-- I pick up the poop and tossed it. Five minutes later, the carpet was cleaned, Mac's stomach was empty, Holden was once again running around house, and I was finally enjoying my tea. Just a typical morning in the Terwilliger household.
