Guess who just caught (okay, attempted to catch) an Exorcist like stream of vomit in her own, two, lady-like hands?
I was all, SAVE THE SOFA! in slow motion, my mouth working silently as I soared toward the heaving child, arms stretched forward, body horizontal in the air like a receiver reaching for the endzone.
I caught the first bit in my left hand and managed to seize my son's shoulders and yank his chin out over the new Pergo (See? See?) with my right.
Totally didn't muss my 'do or break a nail either, which is not all that remarkable since my 'do is a ratty ponytail and I bite my nails. But! It is remarkable since I have a temp of 102 degrees and I'm all weak and dizzy and stuff.
Aren't you so glad I felt the need to share my triumph?