Pukimus Maximus.

Puking was never as much fun as when you were two. At least, I'm guessing, based on the recent desire expressed by my two two-year-old boys. Apparently these two have a facination with regurgitation. Months ago when they were getting the hang of eating solid foods, the coolest thing ever was to force their tiny fists down their own throats to see what came up. Wow! Look at that! Peas, corn, AND chicken! Cool! Hey mom, look what I can do!!! Ah me. Nobody told me about this. Jack and Ben got a cold about a month ago and along with the nasty cold came a nasty, phlegm-producing cough. Nothing like a good cough to get the old stomach juices flowing. You know where this is going. It started with Jack legitimitely coughing so hard he puked. It was awful, scary, frustrating, sad that he lost such a good meal. I'm sure it was all these things for Jack, too. However, somewhere in his little brain this was also registering: Remember how to do this so I can use it against them later...And a month into this ferris wheel of a cold, he does, and so does his brother. They compete about a lot of things. Attention from me and their mama, who gets the blue sippy cup, who gets to hold the bag of puffs...pretty much everying. Including, as I've been so graced to recently witness, control of the bowl in a fit of self-induced-coughing-to-vomiting. It starts slowly, but we know when it's coming. A little bit...then, maybe he'll stop, hoping, calmly saying, relax Jack, relax, and then, there it is. On the floor, usually somewhere outside of the bathroom. It's a mad rush to get him to the toilet with a trail of dogs and twin brother behind. Ideally, when you puke, you go to the bowl just in case...hoping that you don't need it, but just in case you do. For a two year old, this is a right of passage. "I am now so important, I get to use this thing! Hey brother, look at me....wait, wait, don't get to close. Let ME show you how." The brother watches with facination, knowing that if he can just get this cough down, he too can experience this new, uh, thing. Tonight was the other brother. For Ben, it was too much of monkeys on the bed, a few coughs later, and voila. On mommy's bed...and in the hallway...and finally, to the porcelain god with his fish sticks from dinner, kidney beans from lunch, some peas, broccoli, and finally, the pink cupcake he demolished just moments ago. The dogs waited, hoping. Not to be outdone, Jack was still on the bed, working up his chuck. And then came running, pushing his brother out of the way, on to his final post. But wait, Ben isn't quite done. And then Jack again. And then, finally, the round is over, and the cleanup begins.