Caution: Wet Floor

So, this week, Stanton and I scheduled a play-date with friends at Chick-fil-a. My friend, Joy, and her two little girls pulled into the parking lot as we did. The kids were all so excited to see one another and giggled all the way into Chick-fil-a. The place was packed! I told Joy I’d take the kids and find a table while she got in line. Of course the only open table was smack in the middle of the restaurant, but I grabbed it and got the girls situated. I found a high chair for Stanton, dragged it over to our table and plopped him down. Joy came over with her girl’s food as I pulled out Stanton’s only safe food from home, corn kernels. As I pulled the lid off the container of corn, Stanton went into a full blown vomiting session. 

Projectile is the only word in the English language that comes close to describing this style of vomiting…..but a picture of a long-dormant volcano suddenly coming to life always jumps to my mind. My dear, sweet friend, Joy, handed me about five napkins and wandered off for more. I attempted to keep Stanton calm as those five napkins soaked up roughly 10% of the damage. He cried loudly and I began to notice we we drawing a large audience. I also tried to keep the girls calm as they begin asking questions. “Is Baby Stanton okay?”… “Is Baby Stanton sick?”…”Does Baby Stanton have a tummy-ache?”… “will I get the tummy-ache too?”

One of the tables right next to ours chimed in: “Oh I remember my kids doing that in restaurants. It’s hard being the Mom that just exposed everyone to the stomach bug.”


Okay – I completely realize that now is not the most opportune time for a public service announcement….but I could hardly contain myself.

I tried to smile and nod but I felt tears brimming. My hands were shaking as I stood Stanton up in the high chair and undressed him as he cried. I wanted to share our story. I wanted to define reflux. I wanted to describe eosinophilic esophagitis. I wanted those around us to know they had not just been exposed to something contagious. Instead I stood, letting the world fade away for a brief moment, and held Stanton tight to my heart in only his diaper; rocking, humming, breathing, pulling us back together. I opened my eyes only to find our table now marked by bright yellow wet floor warning signs…just in case anyone in Chick-fil-a missed our first act.



This week I learned that advocating for Stanton’s health will only be half our battle.