Its my party and I'll Barf if I want to

Oh Clara,
I've been writing about you allot lately but it's your birthday week so you're in the spotlight. Darling, we had a mishap today. Finally the time for your BIRTHDAY PARTY WITH THE DOLLY CAKE! arrived. Seventeen adoring family members gathered in our family room to bask in your radiance when, much like a fire hydrant open and spraying it's contents, you opened your little mouth and barfed up what seemed like a gallon of stuff all over a 3' radius. (Here's where I consider your beige diet is a feature). Your Damma, had the unfortunate circumstance of being within that radius. It happened two more times before I surfaced from my shock and ran for a solution, or at least a slew of non-toxic cleaning agents.
Once you were cleaned up and your tummy contents were secured, I wanted to slink off far far away. Away into a liquor, uh, I mean dark closet to hide from the judgment that I was THAT MOTHER. THAT MOTHER who invites people over even when she knows her kids are a little sick, because she's aching for grown-up conversation and or has been planning an event for days. Only I didn't know you were sick until you were sick. I promise. Plus I never start planning for an event until 180 minutes before the first guest arrives so it would have been an easy cancel. Still baby, I'm so sorry you had a rough day. Here's to a year of happy times and secured tummy contents.

Love,
Mamma

Ps. I love "THAT MOTHER" that I refer to in my posts. If you're blessed with children someday, you'll likely fall under her spell from time to time. She's always doing her best… but as they say "The best-laid plans of mice and (wo)men often go awry".