I'll take my Daddy-cereal with a side of puke, please

At least, I would if I was A.

He fell asleep yesterday at 3PM in the car. We drove home to drop off groceries then were off for the calorie-laden deliciousness of In-n-Out, since their buns are dairy-free (oh, thank God).

And he slept, and slept, and slept. He slept through the drop-off of me to a reading, and he slept through the pick-up, and he slept until late this morning.

Then he sat at the table, started in on a bowl of cereal, and threw up into it. And all over the table. Oy.

He's thrown up the little bit of water he got afterwards, so now he's tucked away on the (sheet-covered) couch watching Mary Poppins, after which it will be nap time.

I just got L to go to sleep, and let me tell you, there's nothing quite like a vomiting preschooler and a two-month-old to make you break out the bleach and the Purell. I fear my hands will be crackling dry by this evening.

When you think about the joys of having two kids, you don't think about the joys of cross-contamination challenges.