Tickle-time trauma!

This evening, Cavan and I go to her room for our normal routine of tickle-time and hide-and-go-seek before bed. As I am taking off Cavan's clothes and putting on her diaper, I am giving into her insatiable desire, "Munch on me Mommy!" And she was extra-ticklish tonight. The giggles were to-die-for as I ate up her riblets and cheeks and neck and toes! The blissful and innocent joys of parenthood. Munch munch munch...until she was laughing so hard that she choked on her spit. And one second later covering me, her, and the carpet in puke!

There is nothing, I mean absolutely nothing, on the planet as foul as baby/toddler puke. It is all I can do from gagging and vomiting myself from the assaulting smell. But I hold it together because that would a) be even worse to clean up and b) would scare/upset Cavan even more. Yes, more joys of parenthood.

I wish I could say that this is the first time this has happened, but it's becoming more and more obvious that Cavan has an easily-excitable upchuck reflex. Though this is the first time I've tickled the puke out of her, Hubby has been puked on after throwing/flipping her in the air. And on multiple occasions she has run around our open floor plan at full speed until abruptly stopping, emptying the depths of her intestines, looking momentarily horrified, then continuing her cross-country training around our kitchen island. At least she doesn't lose her good spirit along with her dinner.

So after stripping both Cavan and myself out of our clothes and bathing us both with baby wipes, and blotting/scrubbing chunks of pasta and milk-mucus out of the carpet, giggle girl immediately requests hide-and-seek. Whew! But how can I turn down the hysterical experience of watching Cavan innocently hide in plain sight? Somehow I am able to endure the lingering aroma of acid-curdled dairy for the pure joy of parenthood.