So the creature has contracted a hideous case of gastro enteritis, where she has grown accustomed to emptying her bowels five times a day, and ejecting the contents of her stomach through her mouth.
I discovered this the hard way.. My aunt had just left for work and left me alone with the small , gurgling and seemingly innocent little bundle. We played our usual games like smack the rattle or peekaboo but i noticed something was awry. Her usual chortles seemed faint, and her drooling and chuntering less entusiastic.
I became suspicious upon changing her nappy. I gasped in horror when i saw the devastation that had settled in the creases of her pampers nappy. It was a putrid green concoction that seemed to bubble menacingly in the heat. I Felt the bile rise in my throat, but i clutched her sticky hand for support. I needed to be strong for her and to assist as best i could, in the battle against the virus that ravaged her weak immune system.
I wished there was a gas mask in the “changing bag”. It seemed like it should have been a necessity that day, my eyes stung from the fumes. To my utmost horror it had spread up her fleshy little back and settled in the crevices of her sweaty leg folds. I began to scrub her meticulously with wet wipes and sudo cream when she began choking, her eyes bulging in their little sockets.
My heart pumped furiously with fear! what would i do in this situation ?! I had not been trained for this. I held her out in front of me. curdled milk poured from the wide open cavern of her mouth. I gasped in shock as it plopped all over my lap. I had not even placed a new nappy upon her red raw bottom and thus my tshirt was smeared with a strange mixture of sudo cream and other fowl unmentionables. I thought it must be over now.. I had only fed her half a bottle. Alas it was not! I held her in front of me, trying to wipe down her puce little face when she vomited profusely, all down my neck and into my shirt.
I felt like weeping. She continued to to empty her gut on my back, and onto the floor. I wished to dangle her, Michael Jackson style over the balcony,to empty the contents of her stomach quicker, or perhaps to notify civillians to my plight. Eventually her father returned home to the horror scene that awaited him. He looked aghast as i approached him, covered in fowl substances, sweat pouring from the furrows of my brow. ” PLEASE TAKE HER, TAKE THE CHILD”. I waded through the rivers of vomit to reach him. ” I RESIGN, I QUIT”..
Of course there would be no resignation..sharing vomit, sweat and tears brought us closer together, tightened the irrevocable chains of our relationship, cementing her place in my heart. The child needed me, and in a way i needed the child. She was my sole amigo in this desolate place, i lived for her chuckles or one of her toothless grins. All that was required to do was incinerate my clothing and disinfect everything I owned. It was a sacrafice i was willing to make..