So how're the newly acquainted siblings getting along? Well, let's just say they haven't quite warmed to each other yet. Maybe it's because they haven't spent much time together. Maybe it's because Delaney's never seen anyone with a lip ring and a Mohawk. Maybe it's because Big Brother scared the bejeezus out of her by getting in her little face and shouting, "Boo!" sending her screaming into my arms. Or, maybe it's because Big Brother's friend, Travel Buddy, vomited eight gallons of Tex-Mex while sitting next to her in my car after dinner on their first night in town (I'll never look at chips and queso in quite the same way again. But, strangely, I think I'll still eat them. Even puke can't quell the love I have for spicy cheese.). Anyway, I think they just need to spend some quality time together forging their bizarre, yet meaningful relationship amid a 17-year age difference. Heck, their father and I were able to do it.
Speaking of Roger, he spent an awfully long time cleaning Travel Buddy's barf out of my car, God love him. Sadly, it's not the first (and probably won't be the last) time he's cleaned up puke on my behalf. The first time was when my sweet, high-spirited British friend came to town for some crazy single-girls-on-the-town fun and instead wound up sitting in my boring, tiny house watching me make goo-goo eyes at the love of my life. To bring her spirits up after that disappointment, I served her a special brownie prior to dinner at a Japanese restaurant. Please believe me when I tell you that saki, sushi and psychedelic desserts do not mix. When we returned home I was a little too inebriated and floaty to help carry her into the guest room so Roger did it. Minutes later, after he dropped her into bed, she spewed forth. Roger had to clean it all up whilst I lay in the next room, drunkenly calling for him to keep watch on her all night so she wouldn't choke to death. Ah, good times.
And, this amazing man was called upon once again to prove his love for me when one of our dogs, Guinness, came down with a virus. I had just picked Roger up at the airport. He was returning from a Christmas visit with his kids and I planned to sweep him off of his feet and into our quaint bedroom for a welcome home celebration. Instead, when we walked into the house we were hit by a stench so vile that it must be what CSIs experience when they find a days-old corpse. It was nas-tay. I'd left poor Guinn in the sunroom because it was terribly cold outside. While I was gone she'd gotten sick, from both ends, ALL over the room. I decided to take her to the vet and Roger said he'd stay behind to clean up. As I headed for the door with Guinness in my arms, I glanced back and saw Roger gagging and barfing as he mopped. He had to clean up after the dog and himself. And, I'm ashamed to admit it, but I laughed so hard I got tears in my eyes. But lest you think me a terrible person, I laughed not only because it was such a ridiculous scene, but also because he's so dear and constantly shows me, even in the strangest of ways, how much he loves me.
I love you, too, Honey. And I'm so glad you don't make me clean up the barf.
ick. *shudder* just ick.
Posted by: MamaChristy | July 13, 2006 at 08:38 PM
omg! reminds me of an old, rather infamous family story with which i shall not hijack your blog, but perhaps should tell over there at chez oy sometime.
why oh why did travel buddy barf in your car? why? don't children that age know enough to say, "PULL OVERRRRRRRRRRRR!" ??
xomox
p.s. and do you have margaritas that size at your house? because if so, i'm coming over!
Posted by: moxiemomma | July 14, 2006 at 06:23 AM
OMG! Ava was TERRIFIED of my brother when she met him at the beach! He had the scary eyebrow ring and creepy goatee (sp?). And instead of speaking sweetly to her... he would open his eyes very big and screech, "HI!!!!!" She lost it! Screamed hysterically everytime he walked into the room. It wasn't until Day 3 that she allowed him to even look in her direction. Even then, she only did so with extreme reservation. :-)
Posted by: Stephanie | July 14, 2006 at 02:13 PM
That there is a good man. And I thought Mr. Flinger rocked when he held my hair back for the pregnancy pukin'. But cleaning it out of the car? I applaud him. :-)
Posted by: Mrs. Flinger | July 14, 2006 at 06:00 PM
OK, first of all, I have to second moxiemomma's comment. Didn't this kid feel it coming? Surely this wasn't his first experience with vomiting???
As for Roger's cleaning, I can relate. With two kids we've seen our share of puke. I didn't truly appreciate the fact that Shane ALWAYS does the clean up while I console the upset child and bathe and/or change clothes as needed until one day when Preston threw up when he wasn't home. After the consoling and clothes changing, I then grabbed the mop and thought, "Yuck! This isn't usually this bad." Then I remembered that I don't usually clean it up!!
Here's to good men! :)
Posted by: Lisa P | July 14, 2006 at 09:44 PM
What a good man! Hopefully Delaney and big brother are getting acclimated. Sometimes teenage boys don't understand the "scaring a toddler is not funny to break the ice" thing.
Posted by: Jamie | July 15, 2006 at 10:18 AM
Eeeeeeew. What a memorable first meeting...sounds like your Roger is a very good man!
Posted by: karen | July 15, 2006 at 07:25 PM