One of Simi's best-est girl friends turns 5 today. Your mind should logically jump to pink, streamers, birthday cake and obnoxious amounts of princess; just like any 5 year old's birthday.
During the rousing game of Princess BINGO I ran into the other room to see something just a touch more interesting...a 4 month old baby. Full of rolls, grins, giggles, and chubbiness. She's everything a baby should be and I couldn't resist the urge to hold her tight.
As I sat with baby Rory, desperately wishing I was pregnant, she began to get a little uncomfortable. Sensing her distress I pulled her close to me as she unloaded the contents of her surprising large stomach onto my lap.
Let me interject right here I am a die-hard believer in breast milk. I breastfed my children long enough to get me incarcerated in some states. I believe breast milk is the magic solution everything; from psoriasis to hemorrhoids. But the best part about breast milk, it has no odor when it makes it's occasional re-appearance. Not so with the other stuff.
As the sweet cherub wretched upon my lap, legs, belly and arms my main concern was to keep the contents of my own stomach safely south of my esophagus. THIS IS HARD, really, really hard. In fact, I am searching for a potted plant, cake plate, or empty diaper to ralph in.
In the midst of this horror I look up to see one of my best friends laughing hysterically. Jill, is in the grips of a belly-popping, cheek-acing hysterical fit because of my train wreck. I can't help but laugh too. Did you know laughing melts away the gag reflex?
The whole room is now aware of the massive spewing and running to my aid as I am holding the baby 3 feet away from my chest with my head turned away from the carnage in my lap.
Let me stop here to introduce my next character. My dear friend Beth (aka Beffers and the mother of the birthday girl and the owner of the couch I was currently seated). She's the kind of gal you'd take home to meet mom and dad. She's never crude or socially unacceptable, always perfect in appearance, and beyond friendly and welcoming. She's right at home in a country club or spa. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she was a debutant earlier in her life. In a nut shell Beth is regal without the snobbery. However, Beth is a hospice nurse which means she's on a very intimate level with all bodily fluids, they just don't phase her.
Beth rushes to my rescue with beach towel in hand prepared for the situation. The 'situation' happens to be directly in my lap....meaning my crotch region. But Beth, medical training in hand, doesn't recognize my crotch as a 'region of sacredness' she is just focused on the white cottage cheese substance all over my lap. Seeing as my hands were full with the cottage-cheese maker, Beffers cleans my lap for me until we both got a handle on the situation and realized I'm not 85 years old in need of palitive care and am perfectly capable of cleaning my own 'lap'.
Beth so generously offered me fresh clothing, love and humor to dissipate the rank smell emitting from my pants.
Beffers, I think you are the coolest. How many friends would do that? Not many, darling, not many. Thanks for providing me with a ton of laughs, wonderful birthday cake, a pink tiara, and laundry. I love you forever.
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