Barf and Koigu don't mix

Whooooo boy. It was a close one. I've been fanatically knitting away on my daughter's tween's dream bolshrudigan, my first attempt at sweater designing with help from Elizabeth Zimmerman and Barbara Walker. I mean, I was CRANKING along on the thing. I figured out why,when knitting a ruffle around the entire edging, that maybe it's best not to do a double ruffle. Double ruffle = knit regular one round, knit front & back of each stitch next round (doubling stitches), knit regular one round, knit front & back of each stitch next round (doubling the doubled stitches). Let's just say that I had every damn length of my adjustible needle set added on and it was still so crammed with stitches that I had to stop and hwang them around after each 10 or so stitches. TOO DAMN MANY STITCHES. I couldn't unknit it, I had to pull it off the needles and woooooooo pull out the stitches. I'd just decided my hands, eyes and head hurt too much to work on it any longer, so I put it into my basket and set it on the counter next to my bedroom's bathroom door.

*duh, duh, DUUUHHHHHHHHHHH* (foreshadowing music here)

At about 11pm, little feet padded into the room with a "my tummy hurts" and then seconds later, SPLAT....SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT!!!! (repeat over & over). Joey had gotten the barfs. Projectile vomitting from the doorway of the bathroom that covered the entire room, the door, towels, walls, etc. ICK doesn't even begin to describe the horror. The only saving grace was that the knitting basket was about TWO INCHES away from the beginnings of the splatter. I'm telling you, it's a good damn thing. It would have been thrown away, basket and all. I don't care if I'm 5 balls of koigu kersti into the thing or not, I don't do well with barf. If the kid hadn't made it to the bathroom and exploded on my bed, I think we'd have to move. period.

I can handle everything else that comes out of a child, you name it, I've cleaned it up. Barf just isn't one of those super-momma fighting skills I was blessed with. THANK GOD FOR JEFF. After sticking Joey into the shower, he used the nearby towels I'd grabbed and wiped up all the visual traces for me, took them down into the washing machine. I just had to lysol & clorox the room without breathing or thinking of it.

Joey's feeling better now. Hopefully it was a one-big episode. We all had our flu shots, so I'm hoping that helps kick this in the butt.