Yuck

Nothing is yucky about these pictures - I'll get to that in a minute. I thought it was so neat that Ford stood up (sort of) for the first time in the exact same spot where Claire did 2 years ago and I was able to catch both of them with the camera! I promise the child wears clothes! I don't know why all of the pictures on the blog are of him in a diaper. Anyway, back to the yucky part . . .
Rhett is working today so after church I took the kids to our regular lunch spot (Chipotle -yum!). We were having a lovely little lunch but I goofed and forgot baby food for the little guy. I'm trying to make the transition over to table food because despise babyfood (it is expensive and takes up space that we just don't have) so I thought "great he can just eat a quesadilla and some guacamole". He wasn't too interested in the quesadilla but slurped down some guac prety quickly. It was already late and we were on borrowed time at this point and Claire was taking her sweet time wanting to chit chat. I pulled Ford into my lap and trying to entertain him I thought "what the heck here's a little tiny piece of tortilla chip". I am normally extremely careful about choking hazards (Claire actually uses the term "choking hazard") due to all of the kids I've seen die from choking in the PICU. Anyway, I had a momentary lapse and gave him the little piece of chip. A few minutes later I guess he tried to swallow it and it got stuck in his esophagus. He started gagging and before I knew it there was a virtual guacamole volcano in my lap. Let me set the scene here - this is a small restaurant. We are sitting right next to the order line and cash register and across from the drink station. There is no way I can play this off. Guacamole is now all down my lap, on my shirt and formerly white linen pants and down his front. Then he turned his head and continued to throw up in the other direction and got my arm and his arm. Let me just say it is amazing how quickly food can go from yummy lunch to disgusting vomit when in a stomach.
I attempted to do some sort of damage control just knowing that everyone around me had to be aware of my situation. This is when Claire pipes up with an assortment of LOUD non-helpful comments: What happend Mommy? What did Fordy do? He throwed up on you? He throwed up all over you? Mommy why did Ford throwed up on you? Mommy Ford throwed up guapdamole on you? Mommy is that gross? Why is that so gross Mommy? You trying to clean it up Mommy? You trying to clean up all that gross throwed up from your shirt Mommy? Why did you say we need to get out of here Mommy?
Bless his heart. Sorry about that little man. No chips until you are 12. At that point I just tried to get enough off of us so that we could physically stand the ride home. What we both needed was a bath - quick. Ugh, I can still smell it.