I am typically very impressive when it comes to spit up. I'm practically using the matrix to dodge spit up. But today... I was not on my game today.
Jane spit up on my face. My FACE. Of course I instinctively grabbed her burp cloth (which hadn't been used yet) to wipe it off before it spread. I was met with a whole mess of spit up, apparently she had gotten the burp cloth, too. and my outfit. and the floor. and the chair. and herself.
And I was reminded once again that parenting is 10% love and 90% bodily functions*.
*not really of course, but sometimes it feels like it.
This has happened to me, surprisingly, only once. Chloe did it a couple weeks ago. I hadn't showered yet so that immediately followed. It tends to make you feel a little violated when it happens on your FACE. I can handle the rest of me. Although, down the shirt isn't too great either.
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