Not Quite My Worst Fear Come True, But Pretty Effing Close

Sam is sick. Wait, I'm going to test fate and say instead that Sam was sick. Yesterday he was coughing a little here and there, but since he's been drooling like that dog from Turner and Hooch, I just figured he wasn't coordinated enough to not choke on his own saliva. He got up from his last nap around 5pm and was listless. By quarter of six, he was almost asleep again. Dr. SOB suggested we give him a little tylenol and put him to bed. We had recently purchased a shiny new bottle of infant tylenol that was cherry flavored instead of the grape we had before. Almost as soon as the dropper was out of his mouth, he vomited. A red and milky white stream of puke rushed out of his little head an onto Dr. SOB's chest. I cleaned the both of them up while we speculated as to whether or not I gagged him with the dropper or if he had some aversion to the cherry flavor. A few minutes later, we tried another dose of the cherry stuff. It seemed to stay down, so we decided to try and give the boy a little cereal before bed. No sooner had I strapped him into the high chair did he puke again, and all over the nylon straps. I got him out and clean and then I cleaned the chair. Dr. SOB thought maybe we should see if we had some of the old grape tylenol left, and since I always try and keep some in the diaper bag, I dumped the contents of said bag onto the coffee table until I found it. He took it without incident and after ten minutes seemed to be keeping it down. We decided it might still be a good idea to give the lad some supper before bed, so he ate some cereal. He seemed to be doing alright, so I gave him some of the avocado I had prepared for him earlier. He gobbled it up. Because he was being very clingy and because he had puked on himself several times over the course of the evening, I decided that instead of his usual duck bath, I would run a bath in the regualr tub and soak with him. I was even planning to put some of the Johnson & Johnson's soothing lavender bedtime bath in the water for us. In hindsight, I realize that this was foolish, but at the time all I wanted to do was make my little boy feel better. Cuddling with mama in a warm bath seemed just the ticket. Sure enough, about 3 minutes after we got in the tub, a torrent of avocado/rice cereal/breast milk baby vomit shot out of his little maw. And then there was some more. And some more. Finally when he seemed to be finished, I called for dad, who washed him in the sink while I rinsed the tub and took a quick shower. It was gross, but even more it was sad. After that, my baby wouldn't eat, so we laid him down to sleep. I checked on him every 3.7 minutes for the next two hours until he woke up and ate. He seems to be feeling better today, and there has only been two small vomiting incidents.

For the record, my worst fear is Sam pooping in the bath. I know it will happen some day, but I live in fear of that day. I was involved in a poop-in-the-tub incident when I was little (I was not the pooper) but that is another post entirely.