I preface this by saying that my mom has a really weak stomach. Its kind of funny what grosses her out, and what doesn’t faze her. She works with blood all day, so blood isn’t gross to her, but just about anything else that can come out of the body at high velocity (what? don’t look at me like that! :mad: ) grosses her out.
Enter Buster the cat. Buster likes my mom. When he wants to go out, he goes up to her. When he wants a treat, he goes up to her. And when he has to throw up…he goes up to her. So one day my mom sees Buster walk up and look her in the face. “What is it, Buster?” she asks. As if in reply, he starts heaving. My mom starts screaming, “Outside! outside!” but the screaming just confuses and frightens Buster, and he keeps heaving. I guess the sight of him about to throw up was too much, because my MOM then threw up right in front of the cat!
Suddenly Buster stops heaving, looks at my mom in bewilderment, and finishes the lunch she ate an hour before :eek:
One time, when I was about three years old, I got sick and barfed all over the stairs.
My mom, ever dilligent, came to clean it up. Then my older brother came along, saw the almost-cleaned-up pile of barf, exclaimed, “ewww, gross!” and then blew chunks on the very same spot.
At least Mom had her cleaning supplies out and ready.
I once had 30-40 passengers aboard my boat in rough weather when one of them became seasick and ralphed right there in his seat. The chain reaction was instantaneous. It was a long ride out to the rig that day.
Damn you, Incubus! I am suffering from, shall we say, lower abdominal distress today. Your story made me laugh so hard that my poor ol’ spincter spasmed, sending a load into my pants!
Gawd, I can’t believe that I just confessed to that! I feel so dirty!
Homebrew that’s alright sweetie. Sometimes ya just gotta bust out in song!
Since we’re sharing barf stories, once in Panama City Beach, FL I was on the “Octopus” ride with a friend and his nephew on the strip. Friend, who is famous for after ride barfs, decided to have a during the ride barf. :eek: He covered just about everybody on the ride.
ROFL, barring illness, pregnancy or sympathetic yarping, I dont get motion sick. The first, last and only time in my life I ever got motionsick, I was 3 days old and my father was flying mom and I home from the hospital in Rochester NY to the airfield in Perry, NY where they were staying with my grandparents…
Mom fed me, he hit turbulence, I yarped and filled the cockpit…He sold the plane fairly quickly after that… :eek:
Not an actual vomit story, but my parents always used this particular kind of pink Lysol floor cleaner whenever my sister or brother got sick in the bathroom or on the way to the bathroom. To this day that Lysol smells like vomit to me. I’m very good at associating smells with things. Bleck!
OOOOH! I have a personal barf story. I don’t remember it (being all of 19 months old at the time) but my father liked to tell this story about me.
Mom gave birth to twins (younger brother (now deceased) and sister) when I was 19 months old. The story is, when they were brought home from the hospital, a crib was set up for them in the kitchen because it was freaky cold and the kitchen was the warmest room in the house. I was sitting on my grandmother’s lap and she had just fed me. Dad picked me up and walked over to the crib to show me my new sister and brother. He leaned me over the crib and when he straigtened up, with me in his arms, I blew all over him.
Moral of this story: Never shake up a full toddler.
It’s also a source of fun for my sister and me especially in places where we should behave ourselves. I’ll stand next to her and make very quiet heaving noises. Cracks her up every time.
don’t look at me like that! :mad: ) grosses her out.