You know the old saying

Well, our night out last night was a fantastic disaster. Or at least a minor one. Upon leaving the kids, we instructed that Grady should be watched carefully, as he's a barfer, and can easily ruin a person's entire outfit with one carefully timed puke. As it turns out, we were warning about the wrong kid. Evan was the one who decided to hurl last night.

We got a call about an hour into the movie (which was very funny, btw). Evan had puked, and was crying. He's been dealing with an allergy type thing for a few days now, and it's not unusual for him to get barfy towards the end of that (he can't seem to blow his nose/cough things up, so he usually swallows and gives himself an upset stomach). By the time we got home, Ev was passed out on the couch. We paid the babysitter a little extra for having to deal with the sick, and we thought that was the end of it.

We were wrong.

As we were all getting ready to go up to bed, Ev stirred from his spot on the couch and promptly chucked all over Mike and the couch. But it didn't end there. The entire night was spent with me and Ev in my bed, Grady nearby in the bassinet, and Mike sleeping in Ev's room so he could survive work today. Evan puked steadily through the night, finally stopping around 5 am. But not before he had soaked our pillows, comforter, bed sheets, and several towels. I have a lot of laundry to do today.

Now he's up, and asking for chocolate milk and Fruit Loops. Um, right. I think we'll start with dry toast and apple juice. I'm completely exhausted, have a splitting headache, and am lucky enough to be dealing with plugged milk ducts. Grady doesn't nurse much at night, which is great for sleeping but crap for my poor milk-heavy breasts. So that's where we are today.

But at least Mike and I got to go out. We might try again in another four years.