The Flu While Flying Solo

The Flu While Flying Solo

A writing, soul sister who I met here on Blogher, jokingly started  this poem by rewriting one of my articles . She chopped out all the flub words from a prose short story. I was swept up in the spirit of revision and kept writing. inerertoldher  writes at thegirls
I could feel my body relax
As I curled up
In my favourite chair.
1 through 4
Were all tucked in
Hubby had gone out
At last.
Smiling to myself
I began to read
Savouring the words,
Enjoying the
But, then I heard it.
‘The noise’
You know…
I threw the book
Ran upstairs
To my daughter’s room..
Too late.
Vomit.  Everywhere.
Poor baby.
Cleaned, changed,
Lovingly tucked into my bed.
To the laundry room
Heard it again.

Too late.
Vomit.  Everywhere.
Poor Baby.
Cleaned, changed
Lovingly tucked into her bed
with the nice clean sheets.
Back to the laundry.
Heard it again
Take three, take four
Vomit. Everywhere.
Mounds of stinking laundry
Number littlest, # 4 woke up
Back to the baby…
One step, two step,
Where did he go?
I slipped and almost fell.
Number 4 had found 3 litres of oil
And dumped
ALL of it
He was rolling in oil,
Splashing with glee.
My mouth
Dropped open;
I almost cried
Hysterical giggles bubbled up
Then gales of laughter.
I leaned against the wall
Slowly sliding
Till I sat


Laughing till my sides ached
Legs stuck straight out
Slippery baby,
Dripping in oil.
Bathed him
Nursed  back to sleep.
Scooped up oil
Washed the floor
Again and again
Husband returned
Sent Flying
Arms Flailing
Legs Scrambling
Almost crashing to the floor
“Gee Mel, What happened ?”
I glare.
Throw up my hands and bellow

our children 

The Joy of Mothering

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