Growing Closer

Call it crazy, but nothing brings Mike and my marriage closer quite like a barfing child.  From the very first heave, Mike and I morph from Mike and Heidi, the people; into “Mi-Di” the barf-cleaning duo.  It always seems to happen at night and goes something like this.

Mike rushes to the scene first. The child is removed from the area and stripped.  Clothes, bedding, pillows and stuffed animals are hosed down in the tub and transferred into plastic bags.  If necessary, the Green Machine carpet cleaner makes its grand entrance at this point.  As one of us comforts and bathes the weak, frightened child, the other is retrieving the back-up Little Mermaid sheets and layering piles of towels over the freshly made bed for added protection.

Throughout the ordeal, Mike and I do not exchange words, make eye contact or engage in any form of communication.  We’ve entered what’s called, ‘the zone’.

I’m always relieved to watch puke land on solid surfaces verses a rug or carpet.  However, last week, barf landed on our 113 year old hardwood floor.  Have I mentioned the crack-size between the floorboards in that hardwood floor?  Have I mentioned you can see light through the floorboards in that hardwood floor?  As I hovered over the floor, wedging barf up from between floorboards with kabob skewer and mentioned to Mike that Molly actually did eat some ham at dinner; it was evident our marriage was growing like wild flowers.