When you realize your husband is actually another kid

This is one of my favorite stories of all time. You know the kind, we all have them. That gem in your treasure chest that tops all the other ridiculous moments. The one that still makes you laugh out loud.

There is a part of adopting a man into your life that no one explains. The man is in fact a man child and he will be your first kid. How is this so you’re wondering?? Do you do their dishes? Laundry? Buy them clothes? Make them meals? I rest my case, he is your first child…

Let’s go back about 2 years…

At the time our girls were 6 and 4 with the baby being 6 or 7 months oldish.

As always mealtime (dinner) in this instance is chaotic. A complete shit show if you want me to be honest. We are screaming at the kids to come back to the table. Tufts of blonde hair whizzing by us as we negotiate that they do need food to survive. All of the usual mayhem that comes with a pack of littles.

As adults we rarely get a hot meal which means you learn to adapt. It wasn’t until kid 3 that I decided feeding myself should come first and then wrestling little people was a good idea.

On this day I had made a stew I believe. While I am unsure of the meal I prepared I am confident that it was served in a pasta plate. The kind of “low bowl” that is as large as a plate.

Here we are eating, and we are eating fast because this is survival my friends. My husband has finished inhaling his meal when he suddenly starts gagging. Naturally, this annoys me. I don’t have time for this.

At nearly 40 GD years old you can’t even eat. I do your laundry, dishes, cooking…I’m mentally ranting to myself when suddenly the husband stands up and leaves the table. Hunh??? Typical, he even interrupts my mental rant. The children are confused and I assure them things are in fact fine. (As my husband wheezes in the background).

Why am I annoyed that my husband is choking? I’m so glad you asked.

You see he has this habit of eating fast, too fast. So fast that he gets burning indigestion and starts doing this hiccuping/burping routine. It’s beyond overly dramatic the way he gasps for air. You can imagine how hard my eyes were rolling around my head as this was unfolding in front of myself and the kids.

Here’s a thought…slow down buddy. I mean he couldn’t have eaten it any faster if He Snorted It Up His Nose. Can you imagine chunks of stew up the nose!!! His food wasn’t about to run off of his plate. It wasn’t going out of style. Get-A-Grip babe!!

As I stand over my kids, hover feeding bites through this spectacle the baby begins fussing. Great. She’s done with her entertainment center.

I glance towards my husband whom has calmed himself down. He’s sitting on the arm of the couch next to the baby. Just sitting there!! No longer choking but dazing off with a lingering red face. He’s completely ignoring the fussing baby!

What the hell are you doing?? Blinks in my mind like a marquee…

I’m drowning through meal time with 3 kids and you’re taking a stoic breather.

Aren’t you gonna help? Get the baby! I bark at him.

With glazed eyes my husband rises and about midway to standing clutches his chest. He walks over to the dinner table and up comes my gloriously prepared dinner right back into his bowl.

What is actually happening right now?? I’m floored, shocked and completely appalled.

Silence. Deafening silence smothers the room and our children freeze. Bites of food on silverware hang in the air. The kids are staring in disbelief, mouths gaping wide. We are all frozen in time. The children are horrified, traumatized and unable to move.

Are you serious right now? What the hell is wrong with you? Who walks TO the table to vomit!!??

“I didn’t know that was going to happen.” He stammers seemingly traumatized himself.

You gonna leave that bowl of vomit on the table while the kids are trying to eat? He shuffles off with his bowl of vomit.

I see residual vomit splash shimmering on the table and I inform him I am not going to be the one to clean up that mess.

Let me get this straight: You’re on the couch exactly halfway between the table and backdoor. You CHOOSE to walk to the table to throw up, in your plate and in front of your kids!!?? What the hell is wrong with you? They’re traumatized!!!

I still cannot process what is happening. My mind is struggling to wrap itself around the events of the last few minutes. I’m certain the look of disgust cannot be wiped from my face.

“Don’t worry about me or anything…I just threw up.”

I hate to break it to captain obvious but we were here. We know. We saw it, smelled it and lived it too…

Really? really man?? Because you just threw up in the middle of dinner AT the table!!!

Naturally we have differing opinions on this moment in time. The husband is still convinced he was about to croak.

Now, 2 years later I assure you he is very much alive and uncroaked.

This can only be compared to the “man flu” which we all know is another time the man child will be certain they are upon deaths door…

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I did. I can’t tell you how many times I busted out laughing getting a visual!!

How do you survive the unexpected regurg?