Last night Sammy's gift to us was a big pile of puke in the middle of the hallway and going down the wall. And I suspect behind the baseboard. The lingering scent of vomit is such a lovely thing.
But this morning he was just fine. We headed out and ran a few errands, went to see the fire trucks at the fire station, popped in at the library, wandered down and had a bagel and some juice and then headed in to work for a moment. He was running and playing and happy.
I wish I had his recuperation abilities. Of course, I wouldn't need them if he wasn't so generous with everything that comes his direction.
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My first reaction was, "thankfully, he did it on the hardwood floor, instead of in his bed." I'm assuming he didn't eat 15 Lindt chocolate truffles before bed though. ;-)
Ah yes! I vividly remember that day and no, Sammy didn't have chocolate and I'm thankful for that. In fact, as we cleaned up, I mentioned to Ben that he'd been very fortunate to have missed the chocolate incident from hell all those years ago.
LOL Well...you missed most of too. Remember my telling you, "DON'T come in here!" lol
Oh yes, I saw enough that I happily ran away. It's the smell that really gets to me....
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