Here’s how a conversation happened at Serendipity the other day with some of my mom friends and acquaintances:
Me: I had a bit of a rough night. Max tried to poo so hard he vomited.
Mom 2: Oh shame.
Mom 3: Did he vomit liquid or solids?
Me: Quite a mixture. Lots of milk, but definitely some solids in there.
Mom 4: That happened to us on Monday night. X vomited all over the place after drinking a lot of milk, and I smelt it for days.
Mom 2: I know!
Mom 4: That sour-milk smell takes ages to go away.
Me: The kitchen sink still smells of vomit.
Mom 2: What are we having for breakfast?
Me: The French toast – I wish I could say no to it, but I’m going to crave it if I don’t.
Mom 3: I’m going to have it too.
And this is what I love about moms – we’ve all been vomited on, we commiserate with each other, and yet life goes on. And we don’t turn a blind eye when conversations get, er, messy.
I’m grateful to have a mix of people in my life. I love those who I can talk frankly to about poo, yet grateful to those who make me realise there is more to life than that.
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