Corn in my mouth.

At 2am this morning my son came in asking to have his hands washed. Uh oh. {Red flags all over the place!} He didn't want me to know why. He very much didn't want me to go look at his bed. I did anyway. Poor kid. He had thrown up all over his bed. He thought he'd be in trouble. And although he's three and very articulate, he didn't know the word 'throw-up'. He had no idea why all the sudden there was, "corn in {his} mouth."

Luckily, the rest of the incidents over the next few hours were directed into a bucket. I really do appreciate he's old enough to get that. While I finish the clean-up, I need to think about when I became old enough to have a child that throws up in the night. I don't feel mature enough for this.