That moment, in the early hours of the morning, when it’s still dark outside, and your kid, who managed to wiggle their way into your bed in the middle of the night, suddenly sits up and declares with panic in his voice, “My tummy hurts.”
You bolt awake, adrenaline filling your system as you grab your child, and run as fast as you can to the bathroom before Mount Vesuvius erupts in the middle of your bed. You just changed the sheets and a bed full of vomit is not something you want to deal with at 5am.
An hour later, after cuddling him through the stomach cramps, wiping his tears of fear, rubbing his back, administering Sprite, Tums, and a few Saltine crackers to get something in his stomach to absorb the acid, he looks at you and says, “I guess I just had to fart a couple of times, mommy. I’m ok.”
So, yeah. Good morning.