An Easter of Vomit and Nudity at the Wildes

Easter weekend at the Wildes, 2008: Saturday morning -- My older brother baptizes all four of his kids. WOW! The church must really be true. What a glorious event! Saturday afternoon -- Frolic and dirt outside. Neighbor boys and my children run everywhere like a pack of dusty puppies. Saturday evening -- Georgia says "Hey Mama" with a serious look on her face. I kneel down to see what she wants. She pukes right down the front of me and all over Edie in my arms. Saturday evening cont -- Us three Wilde girls get in my big tub to wash off the puke. A neighbor boy walks into the bathroom and sees me buck naked. He'll be gay for sure now. Saturday night -- Tom starts puking. Then Edie. I try to sleep horizontally at the foot of my bed whilst the three youngest lay surrounded by all the towels I own. Bucket on the bed. Puke a flowin'. Tom is especially pissed off by whole affair and bellows in rage every time he pukes and that wakes up Edie who wants to nurse but can't breathe through the snot on her face. Wee hours of Sunday morning. -- The kids are so tired they can't lift their heads so they just lay there on their towels and cry, while the pukes streams out both sides of their mouths, down their necks, into their hair and all over their backs. By now, I've given up on PJs and everyone is nude and moist. Even weeer hours of Sunday morning. -- We hear Ryan puke. It's ungodly loud and sounds like he's strangling a bear. The kids are scared. They wake up and puke summore. Sunday 5:30 am. -- Sleep blessed sleeeeeep. Sunday all fricken day. -- Shleping fat baby around. Serving the 7-up. With ice. Passing out Saltines. Washing my eighth load of laundry. Ryan feels so terrible, he is actually crying. Sunday afternoon. -- The kids have no energy to hunt for their baskets. So I just pass them out. They want Peeps. But their bellies still hurt. "Just one bite," I tell them. Georgia picks up a purple Peep and nibbles off its face. Sunday night.-- Everyone is asleep in their clean beds. The de-faced Peep is laying on the living room floor. I'm so tired I 'm sure I'll die.