Balloons and vomit. They don't go together.

Pizza. Most Fridays have us calling into Luisa's for their one-of-a-kind pizza, like today. Jeffrey is a constant companion of mine wherever I go and today is no different. I buckle him in and we head off to get our pizza, but not before returning a movie due back at Blockbuster.

I am just arriving at Blockbuster when Jeffrey suddenly starts crying, complaining that his throat hurt and that he swallowed a balloon. A WHAT?! I look back and see he is still holding the two small water balloons and they are still inflated -- not with water -- but air. I am illegally parked but I don't care. He is crying and not turning blue and apparently breathing, but insists he swallowed a pink balloon which unbeknownst to me, made it into the van with the other two. I tell him to cough but he can't and he continues to cry and after my futile attempts to calm him, I call the doctor's office and impatiently listen to the recording until the voice gets to the on call number to call. Jeffrey is still breathing and still not blue.

I debate my options: Go straight to the ER. Pick up the pizza, drop it at home, then go to the ER. Call into the doctor and have whoever's on call call me back and get their advice.

Suddenly, Jeffrey informs he that he did not swallow a balloon. I ask him, then, what hurts, and he sobs that he doesn't know. I keep asking if he can breathe and he says no, but he's not showing any signs that his oxygen is being deprived. He momentarily stops crying, insisting he never swallowed a balloon and I decide I don't need to rush straight to the ER and can probably pick up the pizza and head home and determine my next move from there.

I am in 2-lane traffic heading less than a mile down the road to Luisa's when suddenly, Jeffrey vomits all over himself. Twice. Crying in between and during the episodes. And I conclude that he probably tasted the bile in his throat before hand which was what precipitated the events to follow.

I happen to be sitting on a towel, as luck would have it. I forgot to put the windows up during the thunderstorm earlier in the day, and the seat was still damp. So before heading out I grabbed a beach towel. I surely can forego the use of the towel and utilize it towards Jeffrey's unfortunate mishap.

Parked at Luisa's, I clean him up as best I can and toss the towel in the back. I remove the fabric from his booster seat and put it with the towel. I Febreze the van. I run into some friends who are just leaving Luisa's and while they stay with Jeffrey, I run in to pick up dinner.

By the time we reach home, Jeffrey is nearly asleep. I change him, toss all the contaminated clothing and items into the wash while he sleeps on the sofa.

Whatever brought this on? He has been fine all day, being his usual animated and funny and annoying self. Where did he catch a stomach bug? And when? And is it contagious?

I contemplate this as I take my second shower of the day to rid the smell of vomit still clinging to me and while Jeffrey sleeps.