A few days ago I asked N. for a post topic since my brain has been quite mushy as of late. N. suggested spit up. I agreed and then promptly went to bed since it was already 8:45 and my bed time is, um, 8:30.
But better late than never.
The Bean in the undisputed spit up champion here at 93 ------- Street. It's copious. It's everywhere. Really. Couch. Clothes. Floor. Hair. And you know what? It stinks something awful. Like regurgitated cheese, which makes sense since it's basically curdled milk.
The other day I felt like everything in the whole house smelled like spit up. It was depressing. Then I went swimming at the pool and even though I knew it was impossible I swear I smelled spit up through the gallons of chlorine.
I have nightmare sometimes that instead of taking this house, we took the one WITHOUT THE WASHER/DRYER! Do you know how miserable I would be? I probably would have left the state. Hands down, the washer/dryer trumps the dishwasher every day of the week.
Now, go smell your shirt sleeve and feel lucky it doesn't reek.
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