Shane and Dan

Wednesday night, Dan snuck in while Shane and I were playing upstairs.

He would have disappeared into the basement, too, if the TV had not snared him.

Wall-E was on (Shane loves his Pixar).

We came downstairs, Shane threw his "who the hell are you?" fit, got over it, and then launched himself into Dan's lap. My son produced a book and demanded Dan read.

I laughed.

When Dan finished the book, Shane made him read it again.

And again...

And again for good measure!

During the reading, I joked that Dan was enjoying himself. "I better warn Shar! Dan wants one!" (a kid).

That got a laugh from both of us.

Then Shane puked half a minute later.

While Dan was reading, Shane was munching. My son was overeager and jammed a cracker too far back into his throat. He started to gag.

Dan response was delayed. He's used to playing with babies, not long-term care. I hopped up and managed to catch two handfuls of Shane puke before it splashed all over Dan and the couch.

I got most of it! Shane hopped down, merry as can be.

Dan, like a true baby novice, went to change clothes, ha! I dumped the puke, washed my hands, and then washed Shane's. There's nothing gross about barf to him and I didn't want him to stick pukey hands in his mouth and gag some more.

Toddlers are messy!