Sometimes, when you're sitting around and chatting, you say things which of course, you don't mean literally. For example, "Slap my belly with a soggy cucumber and call me Terry McGee, I wish I had my own personal rain cloud so I could shower whenever I liked".
So today, whilst sitting with Mrs. Nanny, Noah and feeding Isaac, Mrs. Nanny and I were talking about how well behaved Noah had been, and how his tantrums had been quite minimal, in comparison to the colossal earthquakes we'd been used to. I replied saying "Yeah, and I bet when you leave at 5:15, about 5 minutes later the shit will hit the fan".
We laughed, we speculated, we joked some more. And at 5:15, Mrs. Nanny left, while I sat on the sofa nursing Isaac on old Lefty, with Noah cuddled next to me. Was so lovely.
5:20 Isaac finished feeding.
5:21 Isaac pulled a peculiar face and strained a little.
5:22 My right hip became very warm.
5:24 Still wondering whether what I thought had happened, had really happened.
5:26 Noah jumped up, signing for food and then suddenly pointed at the yellow trail of crap which was running between down the nursing pillow, across the top of my trousers and on to the sofa.
5:27 I pick up Isaac, still wondering what the fuck was going to be the best way to deal with the situation; he promptly barfs straight down my vest, into my bra, down himself, and over most of what we were wearing.
5:29 Noah signing frantically for food while also trying to drag the nursing pillow out of the room; the nursing pillow covered in Isaac's fast moving, questionable smelling, very yellow crap.
5:30 Put Isaac in the changing table on his cot, somehow peeled off my vest and trousers, took the covers off the pillows, put Noah in his chair, heated up his tea (old fail-safe lamb and sweet potato with breadsticks), over heated it so he got impatient and was practically scream-signing for food (never seen a kid willingly smack his own face so hard).
5:32 Prided myself on getting reasonably sorted. And wondered whether I got some of the crap in my hair.* Noah started chowing on his food anyway (you know the boy actually says "nommm noommm nommmm" while he's eating? Awesome).
5:33 Went back to Isaac, discovered he had barfed again, all over himself, the changing table and projectiled it into the cot. Changed nappy, changing mat, wiped him down fast as possible.
5:35 Called Mrs. Nanny and informed her of the good news, that apparently things CAN COME TRUE.
5:40 Cleaned up Isaac, put him on his front on the sofa surrounded by pillows (where he promptly barfed again). Grabbed the nursing pillow, went to the front door in my bra and pants, frantically waving at D (who at just pulled up on the drive) to get the fuck in the house as FAST AS POSSIBLE. Go upstairs to wash pillow in the bath.
5:50 Return downstairs to find Noah happily eating his tea, and D and Isaac sitting on the sofa deep in conversation like nothing ever happened.
It's a good job I can take the shit with the cute, right?
*I still haven't checked. I'm guessing no.