Wednesday 17th January 2018
From sheer tiredness/exhaustion/fatigue/intense athletic pursuits late tonight/dehydration and me stuffing your mouth with half a kilo of almonds, then a chaser of cold milk, you my darling son, vomited all over our hallway. You stood with legs wide open at the bathroom door – actually in the bathroom – yet leaned out and projected your spew throughout my freshly mopped hall.
ARGHHHH!!! And this at 11pm while you are desirous of sleep but you couldn’t go to bed cause you were so so grimy from an afternoon and late night exploring the Marina as well as watching two live shows of Dora’s Fiesta.
And if I recall correctly, while you watched Dora the Explorer, Boots her best friend and Diego her macho mate live on stage I would pop almond after almond in your open mouth. Two bananas as well, a strawberry laban, half a kilo of Arabic pita bread and those dreadful gluten-rich Japanese crackers.
But it was the cold milk which tipped you over the edge. I should have listened and respected your wishes when you yelped neraki, NERAKI!! All you desired was to quench your thirst with water but no, I thought to give you ever more calories with that milk. Poor you. Especially poor you who had to suffer not only the indiginity of a spew, but also the stomach cramps, and then the insult of me hurling abuse your way for vomiting in the bloody hallway, and not in the easy-to-clean bathroom!!!
